Boys Like Boys Like Girls Do
by BluishBleach
Summary: In which Alex has nightmares and a crush, Tom provides a wingman and emotional support, and everyone learns new things. Add in an encouraging Jerry Harris, intrusive classmates, and a home life sharply veering towards disaster, and you have Alex's current situation. Alex/OMC (SLASH) Post-Scorpia Rising
1. Chapter 1

Alex's day had been rather stressful and vaguely unsettling. He'd had a heavy thought weighing on his mind ever since second block, and he needed someone to set him straight.

He found Tom at his locker.

"I'm not gay," he told his friend as he walked up. "I've dated a girl."

Tom paused in the action of taking his Physics book from his backpack. He raised a brow. "You're trying to convince me because…?"

Alex didn't reply to that and instead asked, nonplussed, "You're not already convinced?"

"I didn't necessarily say that."

"But you did imply it. You were supposed to say, 'Alex no, of course you're not, I totally knew that' but you _didn't_." He squinted at his friend as Tom swapped out his schoolbooks and closed his locker door. "You think I'm gay?"

Tom shrugged. "I dunno. But I've always kind of doubted that you were straight." He zipped his backpack and looked up at Alex. "You did turn down _Amanda Delacroix_ when she asked you out last month. That kind of reinforced the ideas I've always had."

Alex scowled. "I told you, I wasn't ready for a relationship." He hesitated briefly and then asked, "What about before that? Why did I ever give you reason to doubt my heterosexuality?"

Tom looked disbelieving. "Besides the fact that you've never had a crush? _Ever?_ And have told me in the past that you don't find Olivia Wilde, Jada Pinkett Smith, _or_ Zoe Saldana attractive? _At all?_ You said Zoe Saldana had a nice nose, which I think you thought proved your heterosexuality, but Alex, it _really_ didn't. Let's not forget about how in primary school you once found a cardboard box chock full of Playboy magazines and you didn't keep them and instead sold them to the upperclassmen for well more than what they're actually worth. Impressive, but really freaking not straight."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but Tom wasn't finished.

"Not to mention we watched Basic Instinct, and you weren't interested in Sharon Stone a single bit, which I am only mildly appalled by, really. And while we're at it, yes Alex, you did date a girl, if it can even be called that. It was Sabina. You never held hands. She kissed you, once, when she thought you were asleep. When I asked what you liked about her, you told me it was her 'wit and cool thinking', but mate, I asked you about her body, and you said she had 'nice hair'."

Tom levelled him with a look that could only be described as pity. "Is there really any _doubt_ that you're not straight?"

Alex chewed on his lip for a moment, trying to ignore the embarrassed flush on his face. What Tom said was true, but… "All of this merely denotes a lack of attraction towards women, which I… might understand… but none of this points toward an attraction to men."

The answering smile on Tom's face was all tooth and savagery, and Alex immediately regretted speaking.

"Oh Alex, I am so _glad_ you asked. Let's take another walk down memory lane, shall we?" He began to tick off his fingers. "One, your Legolas phase. Stronger than any straight girl's I've ever known. Two, you were basically head over heels for Prince Erik, not _Ariel_ the hot redhead, like every other pre-teen boy. Three, you refer to Matt Bomer as a 'god'. Finally, four, and this is really the most damning piece of evidence-" Tom leaned closer and lowered his voice. "-you stare at Day Webster literally every chance you get."

Alex jerked back as if he'd been struck and stared at Tom, eyes wide. "Wh-What? I do not!"

Tom just laughed and winked back, and he couldn't help the furious blush that stole over his face.

"My eyes wander sometimes- I don't _stare."_ He couldn't help himself as he glanced around furtively to see if anyone was listening. But the hallways were thinning and no one was paying attention to the two boys stalling near the lockers.

"Yes you do." Tom patted him on the shoulder and gave him a condescending smile. "But, like, whatever. A conversation for another time, right? You coming over after school?"

They started walking toward their next classes, Tom with his near-perpetual smirk still plastered on his face, and Alex with his cheeks still red.

"Yeah. Could I spend the night?"

"'Course. Finish off our movie marathon?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Alex's current guardian was a 43 year old, hard-jawed Guadalupan named Alil Espinoza. He had grey eyes that looked like rocks and he was built like a freight train. Alex didn't like him. Tom didn't either. Neither did Jerry, Tom's brother.

Because of the mutual distaste for the man, Alex most often found himself hanging out in the Harris household, spending the night when he didn't want to deal with Alil, which was, to be honest, more nights than not.

Neither Harris really minded- they both knew what it was like to live under the hand of an unfit guardian. And Alex was a good mate and he cooked and cleaned and looked after himself, and really, things actually went a lot smoother with him around.

Friday night found Tom and Alex curled up under the blankets on the living room sofa. They were watching _The Princess and the Frog_ and Tom was complaining bitterly.

"I just don't see why we can't choose our own partners in Chem- I mean, we _are_ adults, aren't we?"

"Technically adolescents," Alex said. "But I understand your point. At least you didn't get partnered with Macy, right?"

Macy Joiner had a massive, completely uncomfortable crush on Tom, and just the sound of her name made the short boy shudder.

"Damn right," he said. "Still, Martinique isn't that much better. She's kind of… I don't know…"

"Intense?" Alex supplied. "Yeah, no, completely. That rumour that she killed her ex-boyfriend is, of course, absolutely ludicrous- but a lot of people believe it, which says a lot on its own."

"Yeah, though these same people believe _you_ have killed someone."

"Well I have," Alex said. "So. Not really your best argument."

"Still." Tom considered for a moment. "It's true though. At least it's not Macy. Her crush is getting… Well, it's getting out of hand."

"It's been out of hand ever since she followed you to your house and hand-delivered her love poems to you by shoving them through your bedroom window."

Tom's face was dark and he rubbed his hands over his arms to hold in his shiver. "It's a bloody good thing I moved in with Jerry."

On screen, Prince Naveen was serenading Tiana. Tom blinked and shoved off his discomfort, eyes brightening.

"Speaking of crushes though…" He poked Alex's side with a sock covered foot. "Are we talking about Day or what?"

Alex started so badly he nearly fell off the sofa, and Tom stared in amazement.

"Bloody hell, you've got it _bad_."

"Shut up," Alex muttered, avoiding Tom's eyes as he righted himself. "I don't have a crush on Day."

"We _have_ established you like boys, right? Like, I'm _totally_ fine with your sexual orientation. Jerry's bi, as you know. There'll be no judgment in this house."

"It's not that!" Alex said. "I just- I _don't_ like him like that! Sometimes I- I _glance_ at him, and I think perhaps you've misconstrued that as something more than it is."

Tom raised his brows. "Oh, so you _glance_ at him, do you?"

"Yes! He sits right next to the window, and I like to- to look at the birds."

"So what you're saying is, he's just in the way."

"Yeah."

"And last Thursday in Literature you glanced at him 17 times, but really you were just trying to enjoy nature."

This gave Alex a pause. "You counted?" he asked weakly.

Tom grinned. "Oh hell _yeah_ I counted Alex. 17. Times. That's some pretty intense bird watching."

"Look- I-" Alex floundered. "You- You know what? Maybe I do look at Day occasionally-"

Tom coughed.

"-perhaps even _often_ \- whatever! It doesn't matter! You stare at Josephine all the time!"

"Yeah, but I also stare at Taieesha, Elle, and Alanna Lopez. You, however, _only_ stare at Day."

"You don't know that," Alex said defensively. "We don't share _every_ class. I stare at other people too."

"Do you really?"

There was a pause.

"...No," the blond finally admitted. "It's really just…" He sighed and deflated like a ball that had all its air let out. "It's really just Day."

"Like I thought. Alex, you're the smartest, most perceptive person I know. Can you really not admit to yourself that you have maybe just the _tiniest_ crush on him?"

"I don't see why I need to," Alex muttered. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What's it even matter anyway?"

His eyes were firmly fixed on one of Jerry's snowboarding trophies perched on the shelf across the room.

Tom frowned. "Well, how else are we going to plot your advances if you yourself can't even hear his name without looking like you've committed an act of terrorism?"

This made Alex look up at his friend. "What? That's- Hold on." He shifted on the sofa until he could stare Tom in the face. "First of all, terrible metaphor. Really inappropriate. Secondly though, and more importantly, what do you mean _plot my advances?"_

Tom looked at him as if he'd said something incredibly stupid. "What do you think I mean? Seduction, Alex! We have to plan your seduction techniques!"

" _Seduction?!"_

"Is there an echo in here?" Tom demanded. A sudden, horrified expression quickly took over his face. "Hang on- Ian did- I mean, he did… give you _The Talk_ didn't he?"

"What? Tom!" Alex wanted to crawl under the blankets and die. "Of course he did! I know what _seduction_ is, okay? I just don't know why you think _I'm_ going to be partaking in it. I don't want anyone to _know_ about my- my _crush_." He forced the word out through gritted teeth. "Least of all _him."_

"Why on earth not? What, you think he's out of your league?"

"I know he is," Alex said. "But that's not the point. I'm fine with things the way they are now. I have absolutely no time for any excessive teenage drama."

"It won't be 'excessive teenage drama' Alex, god. It'll be you, getting a hot, talented boyfriend."

"No, it'll be me making a fool of myself. Besides, it's just too dangerous."

"Too dangerous?"

"Come on, Tom. Sabina nearly got her fingers cut off with pliers. You were _literally shot_. No one close to me is safe."

This brought the other boy up short. "I thought Jones said she was going to leave you alone."

"Mrs. Jones says a lot of things. I'm not holding my breath for her to keep any promises."

There was silence for a moment. On the TV the firefly was singing soulfully to the night sky. Finally Alex spoke again.

"The damage has already been done, anyway. There's nothing any of us can do about it."

Tom squinted at his friend. "Al, I sure hope you're not implying what I think you're implying."

"What? That I'll never be able to love and grow old with someone without always fearing their impending murder? That I'll die alone and with no one because anything else is just selfish?" He snorted. "It's not an implication, it's a fact."

"You maudlin bastard," Tom nearly swore. "You can't just live out your life in fear like that! You deserve happiness just as much as the next bloke."

"I'm a murderer." Alex said blankly. "And a coward and a cheat and I've done things in the past that disgust me to the core. I don't even know if I deserve to _live_ , much less whether I deserve happiness."

"Jesus Christ Alex," Tom hissed out, face white. He looked incredibly shaken. "What do you _mean_ you're not sure if you _deserve to live?"_

He gripped his friend by the shoulders firmly.

"Alexander John Rider, you are the kindest, most passionate, intelligent and _loyal_ person I have ever had the good fortune of knowing. Don't you _ever_ say something like that _ever_ again do you hear me?" He gave Alex a little shake, staring shakily into his eyes. "Do you? You helped me through my parents' divorce when I had no one else- you gave me your friendship, your house, your _family_. I don't think- God, I don't think I'd _be_ here if it weren't for you."

Alex's eyes felt suspiciously damp, and he swiped at them angrily. "Now _you_ quit it," he retorted. "You would have been just fine without me. You're the strongest person _I_ know."

"Let's just agree that we're better together than apart," Tom said, his own eyes shiny. "Alive and healthy and here in this house, watching _The Princess and the Frog_ and gossipping about our classmates. Deal?"

Alex paused, smiled slowly, and said softly, "Deal."

There was another silence as Tom reached over and took Alex's hand in his own. They sat like that for a moment, just enjoying each other's company, both absorbing the friendship that had saved both of their lives, in _so_ many ways.

Things weren't great. A lot of the time, things weren't even _good_.

Alex still woke himself in the middle of the night, sobbing his heart out in an empty room, fingers cramping and twitching and trying to hold onto a phantom pistol- a pistol that he had dropped in the blood-soaked sands of Cairo, next to the corpse of a boy who wore his face. He still sat on the roof, just a little _too close_ to the edge, wondering if it would be better for everyone- better for _him-_ if he were to just… slip off. He still punched walls and saw ghosts and screamed his throat raw as he was waterboarded again and again and again in his dreams.

Tom still cried himself to sleep every few days. Mis mother was in Bora Bora with her new boyfriend, and he didn't even know where his father was. He missed them every day, despite the fact that they had never been good for him, had never been there for him like they should have been. He still thought about them more often than he cared to admit, and he still couldn't stretch his left arm without feeling the phantom pain of when his mother had dislocated his shoulder when he was 12.

Both boys were still messes. But they were better now, nowhere near whole, but not broken either, and that was the most precious thing either had at the moment.

They sat in comfortable, if not melancholic, silence for the next few movie scenes, content to just absorb themselves in another happy Disney plot. They'd been marathoning every single children's Disney movie they could get their hands on for the past three weeks, and the singing and the dancing and the happy endings were incredibly cathartic. Tom had seen way more of them than Alex had, because Ian had never really understood the importance of traditional kids media, but he was more than happy to share any bit of childhood he could with Alex.

But Tom, being Tom, wasn't about to let things go just quite yet. Alex caught the side-eyed look his friend sent his way, and immediately tensed back up. "What. Tom. Come on. We just had a serious heart-to-heart, _tell_ me you're not going to start in on my crush again."

Tom grinned, looking delighted in the face of Alex's pleading look. "Oh, so you admit it's a crush then?"

"Tom you utter _bastard,_ you leave me alone. You have the empathy of a hyena and I won't stand for this."

"Look," Tom laughed. "Don't you worry about a thing, okay? Jerry is going to be home any minute now, and when he gets here we're going to sit down and have a nice family meal, and we're all going to do some brainstorming on how we can win you your man."

"We're going to _what?_ You- I- _Jerry?_ We're not telling Jerry!"

Alex was horrified at the very thought, but Tom didn't seem to understand what the problem was. "Why on earth not? He has quite a bit of dating experience- dating _boys_ , which is what you need help with."

"This is so embarrassing," He groaned. "Oh my god, it's not that big of a deal!"

"This is the very first crush you've ever had! Of course it's a big deal!" Tom swooped in and gathered Alex into a smothering hug. He forcefully cradled Alex's head against his breast. "You've just grown up so _fast!"_

"Tom! Get off!" He struggled futilely for a moment, before giving up and throwing his entire weight against his friend.

Tom yelped and tumbled to the ground, and Alex landed on top of him. This was, of course, _unacceptable,_ and Tom countered with a sharp blow to the stomach with a very pointy elbow. The air gasped out of Alex's lungs, but he grabbed Tom tightly by his right wrist and managed to hook a leg underneath Tom's knee. It was short work before Tom had been flipped onto his stomach, a foot firmly pressed against the back of his thigh, his head in a tight headlock.

"Mother of God," he gasped out. "Uncle! Uncle!"

"You've forgotten the magic word," Alex teased.

"Alex!"

"Not it."

"Alex get off me, you're crushing my spleen!"

"Still not it."

"I can feel my liver bleeding, get off of me before I die!"

They were interrupted by a small cough. "So, like, am I supposed to call the police or what?"

Both boys immediately stilled and their heads snapped up to the doorway, where Jerry stood, hands full of grocery bags, his eyebrows raised. "Or possibly a doctor?"

"Brother dearest!" Tom choked, struggling against Alex's grip until Alex rolled his eyes and let him go.

Tom hopped up, beaming, looking none the worse for wear. "What perfect timing! We were just talking about you!"

"Oh Christ no," Jerry muttered. "I'm too old for this."

"You're 24," Alex pointed out.

"And we need your help!" Tom continued, following his brother into the kitchen. "We have a very serious issue and we need to develop a working strategy!"

"You don't need to break into any more terrorist compounds, do you?" The absolute trepidation in his voice made Alex snort.

"No no, nothing of the sort," Tom said. "Look, let's get dinner fixed and then we can all talk about it. Trust me, it's nothing bad."

"Oh yes it is," Alex said under his breath, but Jerry still heard him. He gave his younger brother a skeptical look.

"Trust me!" Tom persisted. He hurriedly shelved the three boxes of spaghetti that Jerry had carried in. "I'll heat up the oven, Alex, you get the shrimp."

30 minutes later, the food was ready and the three boys were seated around the dinner table, bowls full.

"So?" Jerry asked, shoveling a forkful of rice into his mouth. "What's this big problem you guys are having?"

"You know, we don't _really_ need to talk about this-"

"Yes we do," Tom cut in. "Alex has a crush on a boy from school."

Jerry choked on his food.

Alex moaned.

Tom chuckled. "Oh yes, you heard that right. Our innocent, adorable little biggly-boo has it bloody _bad_ for a _boy_. It's just too cute."

"Wow, I'm- well, I'm not really surprised that you like a _boy-_ I'm just more surprised that you fancy _anyone_ , really. I've thought for a while that you might be aromantic- asexual at the very least."

"What?"

"No romantic attraction or no sexual attraction." Jerry shrugged. "And I guess you could still be ace. It's no big deal. Mark is ace and my friend Ad'ifaah is aro. But what? Gay? That's cool too man."

"I'm not gay."

"Well," Tom said. "I mean."

"I'm not gay," Alex stressed. "I don't like boys, I just like- I just like _Day_. Only Day." He hesitated for a moment. "But I guess- I guess that does mean I am gay? Because he's a boy?"

Jerry waved his fork. "Oh, who the hell knows? Look, Alex, you don't need to label your sexuality if you don't want to. Lots and lots of people don't. It's totally okay to just live in the moment."

Alex bit his lip. "Live in the moment. Right."

Jerry observed him for a moment before sighing. "Okay then, onward we march. What's the real issue here? Because you don't need any sort of plan to be gay and Tom mentioned some sort of plot. Does it involve this kid at school? Is he straight?"

"Yes."

"No."

Tom and Alex looked at each other.

"He seems pretty straight to me."

"He's not, trust me," Tom said. He turned to his brother. "His name is Day Webster and he's basically a punk rock, hot, tattooed artist. Alex has very good taste."

"And you… know that he's not straight how exactly?"

"I just know. I can feel it."

"Tom!" Jerry cried. "What you're saying is you don't actually know whether he's gay or not? Or even bisexual? And you- what- want me to help set Alex up with him?"

"Those are exactly my thoughts," Alex said.

"And my answer is yes," Tom said. "Look, you'll never _really_ know until you at least try a _little_ wooing. Things could work out great between you two!"

"But they'll most likely crash and burn! Tom, _you don't know if he's gay!_ He's never shown any interest in a boy before, and I've heard that he dated Kelly Pierce last year- what about that makes it seem like I have any chance at all?"

"Alex. Trust me. Day might not be gay, but he sure as _hell_ is bisexual. I'm willing to bet money on it."

"Hold on," Jerry interrupted. "Wait just one minute. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Tom, bro, if you don't actually _know_ if he's bisexual, then there's nothing to be done. That means he's not out, and if he's not out, it is _not_ your place to go off and tell people that he is, whether it's true or not."

"But-!"

"No buts. And have you even _asked_ Alex whether he wants to out _himself?_ "

Tom turned to his best friend and raised his eyebrows. "If I know Alex, and boy do I know Alex, he won't mind if people know."

Alex shrugged and nodded. "I mean, no, not really. But I don't want anyone to make a big deal out of it either."

Jerry sighed. "And therein lies the second problem. People _are_ going to make a big deal out of it- some of them, at least. It's just the way people are- teenagers especially. So if you end of dating this Day boy, then both of you are going to have to be prepared for the scrutiny."

"Well that's fine, because like I said, _I don't want to date Day."_

"But don't you like him?"

Tom seemed at a loss, and Alex took pity on him. He sighed and set down his fork and leaned his elbows on the table.

"It's not that I don't like him" He explained. "Because I- well, I really do. It's just… There's no point in even trying to get close to him, because one, he'll never like me. Two, even if he does like me back, he'll probably never want to date me, since Jerry is completely right, _he isn't out_. Three, there's no point because like I said, it's too dangerous for me to get close to anyone. And finally, four, even if- and Tom I say _if-_ we did end up dating, I am 100 percent sure he would quickly grow tired of my problems and we'd soon after break up, so _there is no point_."

There was silence for a moment. Even Jerry had stopped his never-ending inhalation of rice and shrimp to stare at Alex, who shifted uncomfortably.

Jerry shook his head. "Bloody hell, Alex, you've got some serious self-esteem issues, mate."

"They're not self-esteem issues, they're truths, which I've learned to accept."

He was growing tired of having to repeat this. It's not as if he _wanted_ to believe these things- it was just that it was necessary for him to accept them so that he could get on with his life. The Harris brothers didn't seem to understand that the consequences of his past followed him to the future, and not just in the form of nightmares and chest pains and PTSD, but in more dramatic, overt ways as well.

He could never go to China because he was still wanted by the Triads. Kopassus had a lengthy excerpt next to his name from his time in Jakarta, so the Indonesians weren't particularly fond of him either. He was on six separate top secret no-fly lists, and on twice as many covert government watch-lists and he couldn't even drive to the airport without his actions being monitored and reported to high-level government officials.

He was a dog on a leash and he was being given lead at the moment, but he hadn't had any in the past, and he would have very little in the future, and _he understood and accepted this fact._

"Look, can we just… Can we just agree to let this one go? I'm perfectly fine with admiring from afar. Really, I am."

"I'm sorry Alex," Tom shook his head. "But no way in hell. You're my best friend and you deserve to be happy- you deserve to be _exuberant_ \- so I'm going to workshop this one and I'm going to help you get laid." He paused. "I mean, if you want to get laid. Just holding hands and stuff is perfectly fine as well."

Jerry smacked a hand over his face and groaned.

"It's like you haven't heard a single word that was just said," Alex said in disbelief.

"Oh I have, trust me, I have- and it's all been taken into consideration." He leaned forward to stare directly at Alex. "By the end of this school year, you _will_ have a boyfriend, I _guarantee_ it. And-!" He held up his index fingers. "Not only that! But no one will out themselves unless by their own free will! I pledge it!"

His eyes burned brightly and his cheeks were flushed in what could only be considered righteous determination.

"Please kill me," said Alex.

* * *

 _A/N: So Alex hasn't actually interacted with his crush yet, but it's coming, don't you worry- prepare for a lot of pining and awkwardness lol. This is my first fic that's not a one-shot so updates will probably be slow, but I'm hyped about this story and I will try my best!_

 _Also I'm queer myself so I think I'll probably do alright, but if I write anything that comes off as offensive, please drop me a line! Not my intention!_


	2. Chapter 2

The thing about Alex's Literature class was that it was _really really_ easy. This was, mainly, because Mrs. Malevowitcz was extremely nice. She was a lenient grader, a cheerful teacher, and overall, just a really good person. She fostered an atmosphere of general optimism, and Alex had no problems concentrating and motivating himself. He learned a lot, and he liked reading, and he shared the class with Tom, James Hale, Abhaya Subramanian, and a couple other close friends.

The class was a welcome stress relief from his other, more challenging courses: Advanced Calculus, Physics, and European History.

But that Monday morning, he was a little keyed up, if only because Tom, seated to his right, was quietly losing it.

Because Mrs. Malevowitcz was _choosing groups_ for the next group project.

"Oh my God it's Chemistry all over again," Tom whispered at his side, horrified.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Tom. It's not that bad. Even if we're not put in the same group, you like almost everyone in this class, don't you?"

" _Almost_ everyone, that's exactly right. Almost everyone." He glanced nervously over to where Macy Joiner was seated, and accidentally made eye contact.

"Oh my God she was _staring_ at me," Tom squeaked, whipping his head back around and slouching low in his chair, as if that would somehow remove himself from Macy's line of sight.

Abhaya Subramanian chortled and patted Tom on the shoulder. "Settle down there, mate. The chances of you two getting put together are pretty low. I wouldn't start to worry just yet."

"Yet being the operative word," James Hale said, teeth gleaming in a wicked smile.

Alex felt his mouth twitch, and Tom immediately glared at him.

"You shut up right now, Alex Rider."

"What?" He held up his hands, somewhat offended. "I didn't even say anything! It's James and Abhaya you should be getting onto!"

"James and Abhaya are pretty bloody awful and their complete insensitivity on the topic is to be anticipated," Tom retorted. "But I expected better from you, young man, considering that there just might be a certain someone you might not want to get partnered with, either."

He wiggled his eyebrows, and James and Abhaya looked over to Alex.

"What's this that he's talking about then, eh?" James asked in interest, and Alex felt the blood rush to his face.

"Nothing. Tom's just being a git."

"No no no," Abhaya insisted, scooting forward. "It sounds like little Alex is _avoiding_ someone. Who? Why? What'd you do?"

"Why do you think _I_ did anything?" Alex asked, a little insulted.

James had been looking around the classroom. "Is it Lorena Slater? I think she might have been glaring over here a while ago."

"That was actually because of me," Tom admitted sheepishly. "I accidentally smacked her in the face with my binder in first block."

"You accidentally-?" James shook his head, and Alex could visibly see him decide not to pursue it. Good choice. "Is it Morgan Bright? I know you two have some pretty different political views."

"Not Morgan either," Tom answered for Alex before he could open his mouth. The short boy seemed to be enjoying the guessing game.

Alex, however, was not.

"Is it Jon Browne?"

"Nope."

"Pin Tae-Hyun?"

"Not it!"

"Taieesha Smith?"

"Nah!"

"I think I hate this friendship." Alex said levelly, pointing dark looks at his friends, who didn't seem at all concerned.

Luckily for him, it was just at that moment that Mrs. Malevowitcz gave three loud claps, drawing the attention of the class.

"Okay!" She said, beaming. "I've figured out the groups! I've decided to pair y'all up with people who might challenge you to think outside of the box. I want this project to be as creative as you can possibly make it, so when I call out the names of who you're with, group up and start brainstorming!"

Alex heard Tom hold his breath as Mrs. Malevowitcz started to pair kids up.

"It'll be you four… You four… John, you and Yazmeen move over there and join those two… Tom, Abhaya, I'm leaving you guys together, but you'd better not make any trouble. Y'all are with Taieesha and Jashanna over there. Shivel, you join those three… And that just leaves Alex, Maria, Martinique, and Day over in that other corner there."

She grinned and flapped her hands at the class. "Now go! Brainstorm! Wow me with your creative intellect!"

She did not seem to be aware that Alex's mind has just short-circuited and lit a feeling of dread that swept it's way all throughout his body.

Tom was more perceptive. Or at least, more in touch with the situation at hand.

"Well, you're screwed."

He was not, however, any more considerate.

"I hate you so much," Alex hissed, glaring at Tom as he sprung to his feet in gleeful relief. "You may have escaped your dreaded fate, but another end will come soon- by my hands."

Tom just laughed. "Okay there Emperor Palpatine, calm down. It's really not that bad."

"Repeating my own words back to me isn't going to make me like you any more, you know."

"But it can't make you like me any less! Now look, this is actually a good thing. Personally? I'm hyped. You need to take this time to get to know Day, and let him get to know you. Just be yourself! That's all you need to do! He'll like you back soon enough, trust me."

He sounded so earnest and hopeful that some of Alex's ire melted. But not all. "You've destroyed my life." He leaned closer and spoke in an undertone. "If we hadn't had that talk on Friday, and if you hadn't brought it up on Saturday _and_ Sunday, I wouldn't be feeling so bad!"

"Badly," Tom corrected, standing. "Adverbs, Alex, adverbs. Now seriously, shoo on."

He patted Alex on the head and darted off to the corner to sit with Abhaya and his other group mates.

Alex clenched his fist. James was staring at him. While Abhaya had sprung up and out of his seat as soon as Mrs. Malevowitcz had announced the groups, James had not.

"Day?" He said incredulously. "Day Webster? Alex, I'm a straight male, and I can be pretty dense a lot of the time, but did Tom just insinuate that you are _crushing_ on _Day Webster?"_

Alex blanched. He looked back at James in pure horror, and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. "I- what? N-No. No! He just- Tom just-" There was literally nothing for him to say. No excuse. He sagged in his seat. "I really didn't want anyone to know." He said miserably.

Seriously, this time last Friday not a single soul had been aware of his _stupid_ infatuation, but now Tom, Jerry, _and_ James knew? If they had been on the second story Alex probably would have thrown himself out the nearest window by then.

"Well, we're mates, aren't we?" said James hesitantly. He awkwardly patted his friend on the arm, perhaps aware of Alex's pathetic, self-destructive thoughts. James was much less dense than he let on, honestly. "I didn't know you were gay, is all. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"I'm not gay, I just-" He cut himself off. He really didn't want to get into it with James right now. "Look, thanks. I appreciate you not being weird about this. Can we talk more later?"

"Yeah, sure. No problem. I guess it's time for us to get to work." James surprised him then by grinning brightly. "So I guess Webster really brightens up your _Day_ then, huh?"

"You _shut up_ Hale," Alex groaned in disbelief. "That was absolutely the worst pun I've heard in my entire life and I practically _live_ with Tom and Jerry. If you don't get out of my sight in the next two seconds I will literally kill you."

Great. Just what he needed- another Tom. Now he _really_ wished there was a convenient window nearby.

James laughed and held up his hands, and soon the other boy had joined his group and Alex was left on his own.

He took a deep breath, straightened his collar, stood, and walked over to where his group had shoved their four desks together.

Maria Sanchez was the first to greet him. "Alex! Alex Rider, right?" She beamed up at him from a face surrounded by haloing curls. "We had Advanced Algebra together last year! Do you remember me? I sat in the corner with Kelli Berlioz."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I remember you Maria." He quirked a smile at the girl.

Maria was kind of hard to forget. She was tall and loud and probably the most cheerful, optimistic, overall _happiest_ person Alex had ever come across. She was always surrounded by her group of equally happy friends, and she was never at a loss for a kind word to say- to anybody. She had even managed to befriend _Umar Bukhari_ , who was, if Alex was being honest with himself, the angriest boy to ever exist. Umar was a _punk_ and it was rumoured that he sold drugs to _primary schoolers._ But Maria had not only befriended him, she had been _invited to his Birthday party._ It was both incredibly impressive and extremely intimidating. Alex was glad to be in a group with her. But… not so much the other two.

"Martinique." He gave the second girl a nod and she raised her eyebrow back at him. She had a shock of hot magenta-pink hair and her eyes were so dark they were nearly black.

"Alex.

Martinique Hasegawa was also intimidating, but for different reasons. She was smart- almost frighteningly so. She spoke at least three languages and somehow made A+s on everything, even though she always seemed completely bored in class. She aced every test without any visible effort, and she somehow still had time to be heavily involved in school clubs. This propensity for good grades probably should have made Alex more excited to work with her but… she put him on edge, and the last thing he wanted was to be on edge- especially considering the fact that the other person in his group was _Day_.

Day was- Day was _hot._ He had dark hair that was pretty obviously dyed, and deep brown eyes. He wore a leather jacket that made him look a bit like a punk, but certainly a very _cool_ punk. He was an amazing artist- he'd had some of his charcoal portraits displayed in the library, and Alex knew a good many classmates who had commissioned paintings from Day. He was a bit quiet, but Alex had had him in his World History class the year before, and he knew that Day was nice and pretty funny and-

And currently watching his face closely, dark eyes blank.

Blood immediately rushed to his face and he sat down abruptly in his chair so forcefully that he almost hurt himself.

"Time to get started then?" He asked, hanging his head so that his hair shaded his blush. He rooted around in his bag for a pencil to avoid looking at Day. Stupid crush.

"Oh yeah, sure," Maria twirled a finger through her thick chestnut hair and chewed on her bottom lip. "So we have to find people in real life who mirror the characters of Romeo and Juliet… Doesn't sound too hard?"

"Except for each person we also have to have a full page of biographical information, four pictures, and a three page analysis," drawled Martinique. "It's going to be more labour intensive than you think."

"Right, but not hard! And it'll be fun! We can do real people, people we know!"

This was the unfortunate part for Alex, simply because he didn't really know a lot of people. He had no family, and his friend group honestly only consisted of Tom, James, Abhaya, and maybe one or two other kids. He wasn't going to have a whole lot to contribute in that regard.

"But we don't have to," he interjected. "I can do some brainstorming on historical figures who might fit the requirements."

"Sure. Sounds good. Keep an open mind though and if you think of someone you know, great." Martinique looked to Day who was lounging casually back in his seat, twirling a pencil in his fingers. "Day, anything to add?"

Day shrugged, still twirling the pencil. "Not really. I understand the assignment."

"Right. Well. Here's how this is going to go." Martinique took out her phone and opened up her contacts. "Maria, I have your number. Alex, Day, I'm going to need yours. I'll start a group chat and we can discuss this more tonight. We're going to be working together on this tomorrow, but I think it would be good if we could get together Thursday or Friday to do some more and discuss how things are coming along. Here."

She handed her cell to Alex, who took it hesitantly. He looked at her for a moment, but she only stared back, brow raised as if to say 'Well?'

He punched in his number and then handed the cell to Day, being careful not to brush hands with the other boy.

"Okay, so we have like 15 minutes of school left. I don't really want to do any work so I propose we just call it a day. Brainstorm some tonight, and then actually start stuff tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me," said Day as he fiddled with Martinique's phone.

Maria nodded and Alex shrugged.

He looked around the classroom. The other groups were all chattering loudly amongst themselves. Tom and Abhaya were arm-wrestling very violently and James was quite clearly flirting with Yazmeen Peterman. He liked Mrs. Malevowitcz's class, he really did. It was one of the only places that he could almost fully relax, which was funny, considering her room was right next door to where an MI6 sanctioned sniper had nearly killed his best friend.

The official story for the shooting was that it was a terror attack. A lone gunman had shot up the school due to anti-British sentiments. He'd been promptly caught, tried, and thrown into prison, to wait out the rest of his life on death row. Alex wasn't sure who he really was, considering the real shooter had been killed when Alex had crashed his helicopter into the river, but there was a man, a real man, taking the fall for the attack.

Alex was thankful to Mrs. Jones for the cover up. The attack couldn't be traced back to him, which meant that he was allowed to go back to Brookland Comprehensive, and he _needed_ Brookland. Tom was here. James was here. And the school was one of the only places where he could pretend to be _normal._ At Brookland, nobody knew that he'd killed a man at the age of 14- that he'd killed _several_ men, and women too. They didn't know that he had deep burn scars seared across his back, they didn't know that he'd once joined a terrorist organization, and they certainly didn't know that he was a completely _useless_ screw-up who destroyed everything he touched.

So.

He needed Brookland, in a way that he didn't need much else.

Which was why, despite the awkward pit in his stomach, and the way heat still lingered at the tips of his ears, he was _happy_ to ignore his groupmates and wile away the last 15 minutes of class playing Candy Crush and wallowing in his misery.

It did not happen like that.

"Hey boo," Tom said loudly, and Alex looked up just in time to see his friend hurl his body right at him.

"Jesus _Christ_ ," He gasped out as Tom's bony elbows collided with his ribs, forcing all the air out of his lungs. "Tom _no."_

"Tom yes." Tom snatched his phone out of his hands and immediately began to take selfies, even as he settled more comfortably on Alex's lap. "Can't I visit my best friend?"

He saw his groupmates exchange looks and Alex felt his face flush bright red. "You're the most unnecessary person I've ever met and I want you to get off."

"There's nowhere else to sit," Tom said, sticking out his tongue and winking at Alex's camera.

"There's a chair right there," Martinique pointed out, but she sounded almost as defeated as Alex felt.

"Hey Tom," Maria said, sounding much less glum than Martinique. "It's nice to see you!"

"And it's nice to see you too Maria." He smiled at her charmingly, then turned to Day. "And who might you be?"

Day stared at him. "Tom… We… We have European History together."

Tom stared at him blankly.

"We sit three desks apart!"

"Really?" Tom rubbed a hand over his chin in confusion. "Alex, who is this?"

Now it was Alex's turn to stare at him. Oh. Oh no. Tom was up to his _games_. He grit his teeth.

"This is Day Webster."

"Hmm…" Tom murmured, even as Day now turned to look at Alex.

"So you do know my name."

"Why wouldn't I?" He muttered, hoping that Day would drop it.

He didn't.

"Well, you greeted both Martinique and Maria by name." Day shrugged. "I just thought that you didn't remember me. We had World History together last year."

"Yeah. With Mrs. Martell."

"Hmm." Day looked carefully at him, and Alex felt like sinking into the floor.

Tom, perhaps sensing his abject misery, gave him a solid pat on the head. "Don't take it personally Day- Alex sometimes isn't such a people person. Doesn't mean he doesn't like you or anything. Right Alex?"

"...Right."

"Because he probably does like you- maybe a whole lot! You'll never even know until you talk to him! He's just like that!"

Tom laughed loudly then, like he'd just said something amazingly funny. Alex wondered whether it might be worth it to just leave class, go up to the school's roof, and literally throw himself to his death. It felt, at the moment, like the only reasonable course of action.

His mouth worked for a moment. "Right," he finally managed to repeat.

Martinique sighed again. "So you don't- you know- want anything? You're just here to hang out?"

"Is that illegal?"

"No. Possible it should be though." She stood and gathered her belongings. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Tom, Alex, Day, and Maria watched as she snagged the bathroom pass from its hook and walked out the door.

"Er." Tom said. "Do you… think she's coming back?"

"No," Day said slowly. "No, I don't think so."

"Tom," Alex groaned, and shoved his best friend off his lap, ignoring his indignant yelp. "What did you do to Martinique?"

"Nothing! She's just kind of- you know- a little _annoyed_ with me. Not by any fault of my own, of course." Tom moved to the empty seat in a huff.

Maria looked at him, and then quirked a grin. "Oh. Wait a minute. You two are partnered together in Chemistry, right? Allie told me."

"Allie?" Tom sat up straight. "Wait, Allie Masters? She mentioned me?"

"Well. Sort of. She told me about all the different groups in Chem. Mentioned that yours seemed a bit- er- tense."

"I pretended my arm was dissolving in nitric acid," Tom explained at Alex's questioning look. "I mean, it was pretty funny because like, obviously I was okay and my performance was _stellar_ , but Martinique didn't take it so well."

Alex shook his head. Tom was a great friend and a really good guy, but his sense of humour was... sometimes just a shade... off.

"Probably shouldn't do that again mate."

"Probably shouldn't have done that in the first place," Day corrected, although when Alex glanced over at him, his lips were twitching. Apparently Day's sense of humour was a little off too. He wasn't sure why this pleased him so much.

He had to force himself to look away from the small smirk on Day's face, which was doing weird things to his stomach. When he shifted his eyes back to Tom, he found that his best friend was staring directly at him and grinning. Broadly.

"So anyway!" Tom said happily, standing and beaming down at the three of them. "Just came to say hello! Nice to meet you Day!"

Then he tossed ALex his phone and was gone, back to Abhaya who gave him a hefty slap on the back in welcome.

"I love Tom," Maria giggled, watching after him.

"Tom might be halfway insane," Day retorted, and Alex snorted.

"There's no 'might' about it, I'm afraid."

Day turned toward him and cocked his head, examining him critically, and Alex suddenly lost all feeling in his extremities. "So. Alex. How exactly did you and Tom become friends then? You two don't seem very alike.

"We bonded over football."

"Oh right," Maria said. "You used to be on the team. You were pretty good!"

"Thanks."

"Why'd you quit?" Day asked.

Alex shrugged uncomfortably. "Health complications." He knew he was being short with his groupmates, but it was a difficult situation to talk about. He couldn't exactly explain that he'd been forced off the team for spending too much time killing terrorists and undermining foreign governments. To anyone at the school who cared to remember, Alex had, supposedly, been absent in huge portions due to strep throat, bronchitis, appendicitis, and complications ensuing from the appendicitis surgery.

Maria was nodding. She was, apparently, one of those people who cared to remember. "Oh yeah, true, you missed a whole lot of school the year before last. I remember that."

"Ah," Day said. "Before I moved here then."

Which was one of the reasons that Alex found Day so attractive- he'd moved to Brookland _after_ Alex had to deal with his entire life being snatched out from under his feet like a rug. Day had missed the days of silence and the rumours of gang warfare, and the awkward, concerned looks everyone had given Alex on the rare occasions he was allowed back in school. He had appeared in an entirely separate part of Alex's life, and he was as of yet seemingly unaware of just how much of a _mess_ Alex really was.

But thinking about how attractive he found Day made him uncomfortable, so he quickly cleared his throat and asked, "What about you? Are you involved in any- uh- extracurriculars?"

The segue was anything but smooth, but Day simply blinked calmly at him. "I'm in the Art Honors Society and the British Sign Language Club. Both are pretty fun."

"Oh, I've seen your art in the library!" Maria exclaimed. "You're really talented! I love the portrait of Einstein you made out of duct-tape- that was probably the most creative thing I've seen, ever."

Day smiled. "Thanks Maria."

The three of them spent the rest of the class period making polite small talk. Although really, Day and Maria did most of the talking, while Alex 'hmm'ed politely when necessary and added in a few comments here and there. He had always preferred to listen than to talk- it was easier, and you learned more.

The rest of class passed by much quicker than expected, and before he knew it, the bell was ringing and school was over.

* * *

Everyone was out like a shot. Alex waved to Abhaya and James, and scowled at Tom, who grinned back like a loon. He avoided any eye contact with Maria and Day. He stopped by his locker to drop off his books, and then he was out of the building.

Alex used to ride his bike to school. He had a very nice bike, given to him by his uncle- but perhaps this was why Alex couldn't bear to touch it anymore. Too many memories. So he walked home now, and he found that he enjoyed it. It gave him time to process the day and clear his head- and really, the more time he spent away from his home, the better.

He was maneuvering his way through the outgoing rush down the front steps when someone caught him by the sleeve.

He immediately tensed, hands clenching into fists at his side.

"Hey Alex! How are you? I haven't seen you in ages!" Dima Berlioz stared up at him, beaming brightly. "A nice day we're having, huh?"

Alex relaxed. "Dima. Yeah- a pretty nice day." He allowed himself to be dragged out of the crowd of students to an empty spot near some planted trees.

"So? How are you?" Dima was smiling so widely Alex would have thought it might hurt- except, well, it was _Dima_. The brightest ray of sunshine he'd ever met.

"I'm good," he said, smiling back softly. "And you? How are your classes going?"

"I'm making an 86 in Algebra! All thanks to you! I can't believe it! Just a month ago I was _failing_."

Dima was the younger brother of a girl in Alex's grade, Kelli, who knew that Alex was pretty much a math genius. When Dima's Algebra grade had dipped below a 70, she'd hooked the two of them up, paying Alex for tutoring sessions. Alex had gotten Dima's grade back on track, and in return, Alex had gotten a heartfelt 8th year admirer. The 13 year old boy practically accosted Alex whatever chance he got, but Alex didn't mind, because Dima was nice and _sincere_ and he got a strange glowy feeling in his chest whenever he thought about the fact that someone in the world looked up to him.

"That's great! I'm really proud. And the rest of your classes?"

"All 90s or higher."

"Nice."

"Yeah- so far being an 8th year isn't so bad!"

"I'm glad you think so," Alex said with some feeling of nostalgia. His 8th year had been one of the best of his life. He'd met James, he'd been promoted to striker on the football team, and he'd finally become a 2nd dan black belt in karate. And... both his uncle and Jack had still been alive.

He shook off his thoughts. "And theatre? How's that coming along? I hear you guys have a production coming out sometime this month."

"Yes!" Dima said, looking delighted that Alex knew. "We're doing Big Fish! Are you going to come and see it? I play one of the circus crew! The giant lifts me onto his shoulders!"

"When is it?"

"October 20, 21, and 23, and then the 27th, 28th, and 29th."

"Sure. I'd love to see it. I think any of those days works, so I'll let you know closer to the date when I'll be attending."

"Really? You'll come?" Dima practically vibrated in space. "Thank you! Alex, you're the best! Thank you!"

He reached out and grasped Alex's hand between both of his, giving it a hearty squeeze and pumping it up and down enthusiastically.

Alex had to laugh. "It's my pleasure, seriously. I love plays and-" He broke off abruptly. "Dima what's that?"

His free hand shot out to grasp Dima's wrist, and he gently pulled the boy's arm closer. Dima's sleeve cuff had ridden up to uncover- he stared- a purple bruise, stark against the boy's pale skin.

 _A bruise?_

He pushed up the sleeve a bit more, to reveal that it was not just a _bruise_ but a _hand-shaped bruise._

Jesus.

Dima choked on a nervous laugh, quickly yanking his hand back. He pulled down his sleeve, running a hand over the fabric, smoothing it in an almost compulsive looking manner.

"What? Nothing! Just- just marker. I mean, paint. Yeah. We were painting sets in Drama. Got some on me." He laughed again, an awful, painful laugh and gave Alex what he apparently thought was a winning smile. It hurt to look at.

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Dima." He glanced around them. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, but he still stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I know a bruise when I see one. And I know what one looks like fresh. You had to have gotten that today."

"I didn't-! It's not-!" The boy's eyes flittered frantically around, searching for an escape, but Alex had planted himself solidly in front of him, and he wasn't moving. "It's _paint!_ No one's hurting me, I'm- I'm fine, it was an accident anyway and it doesn't even matter and-"

"Dima."

Dima stared at him, mouth working soundlessly, cheeks pale. "It doesn't _matter_ , Alex," he managed finally. "I'm _fine."_

"Someone hurt you Dima. That matters." Alex chewed on his lip, heart beating loudly in his chest. "Look, was it one of your parents? Someone at home?"

" _What?"_ Dima stared at him, horrified. "My parents would never hurt me!"

 _That_ loud protest garnered some looks, and Alex pulled Dima further away from any lingering stares with a harsh glare. They needed more privacy.

"Но кто-то причиняет вам боль?" _But someone is hurting you?_

Dima looked relieved at the switch to Russian, but still entirely too on edge.

" _Please let this go."_

" _I can't."_

" _Alex,_ please. _It's nothing, okay? Don't- Don't push this. Please."_

"Я не могу, Дима," Alex said fiercely, and then repeated in English- " _I_ _can't_. _You're my friend and someone is hurting you. Will you not let me help you?"_

They stared at each other for a moment or two. Dima was looking overwhelmed and tearful, and he was still a little too pale to be healthy. And Alex was… angry. Angry and _scared._ Someone was hurting his friend and those bruises looked _painful._ He knew what it was like to be hurt, he knew in every way possible what it was like, and to think that someone was putting _Dima_ through that? Dima with the bright smile and the happy laugh and the disposition so sunny he half expected flowers to sprout up where he walked?

Yeah. No way in _hell_ was he letting this one go.

Dima must have seen something in his face, or perhaps simply sensed it from his demeanor, because after another second, he deflated. It was like watching a soufflé collapse, losing it's air and its presentation all in one, to reveal an almost inherent sadness and disappointment.

Dima muttered something and Alex leaned forward. "Прости?" _I'm sorry?_

" _I said, it's these older boys. 12th year. They've been… pushing me around."_

12th year boys!

" _And how exactly have they been 'pushing you around'?"_

" _Well, they've, you know, actually literally pushed me…_ _And sometimes they just grab me too hard."_

He rubbed at his arm, and Alex zeroed in on the movement. Grabbed him too hard? To make bruises like _that,_ Jesus, that was an _understatement._ He was quiet for a moment as he thought.

" _How long has this been going on?"_

" _I don't know. A couple of weeks."_

" _Does Kelli know?"_

Dima looked horrified. " _Tell my sister? I couldn't!"_

Alex understood his hesitancy. Letting people know you are hurting is… hard. Especially if it's someone you're close to.

" _Why are they harassing you?"_

Dima scoffed, but Alex noted with concern that he also hunched his shoulders in… shame? " _Apparently only queers are in Drama."_

Alex's breath caught in his throat. He stared. "Дима…"

He curled into himself tighter when Alex said his name. He looked like he was expecting a blow and Alex felt _sick._

" _Dima, I'm not going to hurt you. God."_

Alex reached out and pulled the younger boy in, and carefully wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Whenever Alex was feeling like absolute garbage, this was what Tom would do for him- and it always… worked? The urge to pick up a pistol and blow his brains in always abated, and he could practically feel his tension physically ebbing out of him. It seemed to work for Dima as well, because Alex heard a small choked sound, and then Dima was practically boneless, leaning heavily against the blond, shoulders wracked in painful, heaving whimpers.

It was as if a dam had been broken, and Alex held the other boy tightly as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

 _This,_ Alex thought to himself grimly. _Will not do._

* * *

When Alex got home, Alil was sitting in the kitchen reading a book. The man looked up at his entry, eyed him for a moment, and then snorted. "It takes you 45 minutes to walk home? Jesus, I can't imagine being that out of shape."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Good afternoon to you too, Alil." He went to the refrigerator and looked inside. "We're out of milk."

"I know. You used the last of it this morning."

Alex took a controlled breath and closed the refrigerator door. "You were supposed to go to the store today."

"I forgot."

"Right."

There wasn't much else to say. Because Alil Espinoza was… kind of a jerk, to be honest, but he served his purpose. After Jack had died, Alex had gone off to live with Sabina and her family. And _that_ had been _awful_. Oh sure, Sabina was kind and considerate and patient and her parents had done everything in their power to make him comfortable and help him to heal. But… that had kind of made it all the more worse. Edward would gently shake him awake at three in the morning, trying to quell his nightmares. The man would hug him to his chest and murmur kind words. Liz would make breakfast for him every morning, and watch him carefully to make sure that he was eating right.

And Alex? God, Alex couldn't _stand_ it.

Because his mother had died. And his father. And his uncle. And _Jack._ And it seemed like everyone he got close to left and nothing good ever happened to him, _ever_ and it didn't make _sense_ that he could live out a happy life with the Pleasures and be safe and content and not afraid every second because he couldn't _imagine_ a life without fear. He couldn't. Life _was_ fear, life would always be fear.

He would always be hurt and crippled inside, and he would always be alone, and how could anything the Pleasures do change that? In any way?

And so, after about three months with them, he'd gently broken the news that he'd like to move back to England. They'd been shocked, and Sabina had been quite hurt, but in the end, they'd understood.

He got back just a few weeks before the next school year started, and Alex had had one of his final talks with Tulip Jones.

The deal was this: Alex would accept a legal guardian chosen by MI6. Alex would let him or her stay in his house, and the two of them would coexist as best they could. In return, MI6 would leave him alone. Alex hadn't really expected anything less, because he'd once joined an international terrorist organization and tried to murder the deputy head of MI6. So. The desire for some surveillance was… understandable. Especially in his post-Cairo mind set which was really perhaps not the most stable.

The first five months, his guardian had been a woman named Ava Scott.

She was alright, really. A little too pushy, a little too concerned. But she never woke him from his nightmares, and she never made him breakfast, and Alex supposed it was what he wanted.

But Alex was also dealing with crippling emotional trauma and horrific PTSD and he would be the first to admit that he wasn't the best housemate.

Ava Scott quit after those first five months. Next was Jerred Paul, then Monika Borisov, and then Cornelio Weick, and then, finally Alil Espinoza.

He'd gone through a good number of guardians, and yeah, it was pretty much all his fault.

He'd done a lot of things in his past. A lot of horrible, awful, violent things, most of which were highly classified. This meant that his guardians weren't _allowed_ to know what he'd been through- what he'd done- so they were left living with, what seemed to be, some random, passive aggressive kid with attitude problems and an almost obsessive need for confrontation.

He went out of his way to cause trouble and he pushed and poked and prodded his guardians until they broke. He didn't know why he did. He couldn't help himself.

But after Wolff had exploded on him and stormed out the door at 10 o'clock at night, Alex had received a call from Jones, who was finally through with the way he was acting. He needed to _stop_ because they'd had an agreement, and Alex was doing basically the exact opposite of trying to co-exist.

So.

He was… trying. With Alil. He'd leave Alil alone, and Alil would leave him alone- that's the way it would work.

Still, it would have been nice if Alil picked up the slack, _just a little._

"Are you going to go to the store tomorrow?" He asked.

"Of course I am- I just forgot today was all. Christ, don't be such a pushover, I'm trying to read."

"Right," he repeated, and backed out of the room.

It wasn't so great, having no milk, and having to eat dry cereal for dinner. But he had homework, and going to the store himself would mean letting Alil win, so he set his jaw, poured himself a bowl of Cheerios and went upstairs to get things done.

He sat at his desk and stared at a blank sheet of notebook paper for 10 whole minutes before he finally closed his binder and leaned back in his seat. He couldn't concentrate. His mind just kept wandering back to Dima Berlioz and the dark bruise splashed across his skin.

According to Dima, there were three boys, who liked to hunt him down just before third block. They were all on the school's wrestling team. He hadn't even known that the school _had_ a wrestling team. But almost every other day they'd corner Dima somewhere and laugh and joke and tease him for being in the Drama program. Apparently it wasn't a club for boys- at least not straight boys- and they all thought that was rather funny.

Alex didn't quite understand. Drama was _fun_ first of all, and a _lot_ of work, secondly. The Drama kids had practice almost every single day, and they pumped out _quality_ work. They all seemed to have such a tight friendship, and they appeared just like one big family- perhaps not getting along all the time, but always having each other's backs.

What about that was funny? What about that meant that a kid needed to be bullied?

 _They all wrestle, huh?_ Alex mused, and at that very moment he knew what he was going to do.

* * *

 _A/N: So this is out a little later than I wanted it to be, but here's chapter two! I have no idea how British schooling systems work, so if y'all have any corrections, hit me up! Also I've only started Russian very recently so it's basically all Google Translate lol._

 _On another note, the reviews I got have been_ _ **so**_ _positive! I love everyone who reviewed omg, I got back from like a month with no internet access and when I read all the reviews I cried._


	3. Chapter 3

Alex heard Coach Matterson blow his whistle, and he felt his heart immediately pick up pace.

 _Calm,_ he told himself. He couldn't afford to let his anticipation get the best of him. Getting too excited meant adrenaline, and adrenaline meant the shakes and not enough control, and yes, it did mean more brutal power, but he didn't _need_ brutal power. He needed to keep his cool. These were just school kids, yes, but they were _trained_ school kids and if he didn't keep his wits about him things could go very badly.

He let himself slouch against the wall outside the locker room and he waited patiently, listening.

30 minutes later, the wrestlers started to file out, some still clad in their sweaty gym clothes, but most with water dripping from their hair and clean shirts covering their torsos. They were all laughing loudly and jostling each other as they chattered at high speeds, faces bright and exultant with energy.

One of the most fortunate things that had happened to Brookland Comprehensive was the headmaster, Mr. Bray, finally capitulating to popular student demand and reneging on the dress code. Now kids were allowed to wear whatever they wanted to school and they were all _loving_ it. People came to school decked out in all manner of things, and everyone was looking, for the most part, very stylish.

Alex didn't usually care too much about what he wore or what anyone else wore, but now he was quite thankful for the change, because it made identifying the boys he was looking for a much easier task.

They were three of the last kids to exit the locker room and when his eyes focused in on them, Alex was ready. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped in front of the first boy, who wore a distinctive turquoise bolo tie. Alex had never seen a bolo tie in real life, and certainly not on anyone under the age of 40- _particularly_ not on a 16 year old with a face covered in spots.

"I need to talk to you," Alex said. He nodded at the two boys who were walking close to him, flanking him like a squadron. "And you, and you."

Bolo Tie raised an eyebrow. He was tall and the most muscular out of his friend group. "Yeah? What about?"

"I'd like this to be a private conversation."

The three boys exchanged confused glances.

"I don't want to be late to my first block," One boy said. Alex took careful note that he was wearing a wrist brace.

"You won't be late to your first block," The third boy rolled his eyes. He wore a gold star earring in his right ear. "You're never late to your first block and you spend like 15 minutes every day practically chewing on your girlfriend's face. Come on. I want to hear what he has to say."

His seemed to be the most assertive of the three, because both Bolo Tie and Wrist Brace nodded and seemed to accept the words with agreement.

Alex smiled a tight-lipped smile and the three of them waited patiently for the locker room to clear out.

Coach Matterson was the last one to leave, and the man grinned broadly at his students as he passed them.

"You did good work today Eli!" He said loudly and clapped Wrist Brace on the back. "You make sure you don't strain yourself and you'll be in shape for qualifications in no time!"

"Thanks Coach."

Alex kept his face level and open and nodded back at Matterson when the man gave him a friendly grin. It was unfortunate, being seen with the wrestlers, but there was nothing for it. After practice was the only time he was for sure going to get them all together, alone.

Then Matterson left and it was finally empty, and the three boys wasted no time pulling Alex into the empty locker room. Alex noted that there were weights stacked up in the corners and dirty towels thrown into the hampers near the showers. It looked much the same as it had back when he was on the school's football team.

"So?" Gold Star said impatiently, dragging his attention back to his purpose for coming. "What's this about?"

"Dima Berlioz."

"What?"

"Dima Berlioz," He repeated cooly. "I'm sure you know him. You hurt him every day just before third block."

"The drama kid?" Bolo Tie blurted. "What's he been saying?"

"Nothing that isn't true. Nothing good."

"Look, Rider-" Gold Star said. "It is Rider, right? We're just having a little fun. All of us. We don't _hurt_ Berlioz, whatever he's told you. He's being too damn sensitive."

"You've left bruises on him. I think that does qualify as hurting him." Alex took a steadying breath. "But I'm not here to argue with you about this. I'm here to tell you that from now on, you're going to leave him alone."

They stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" Gold Star blurted. "Jesus, Rider, what we get up to with Berlioz is none of your business. We're not beating him up or anything, and anyway, it's not your concern what we do!"

"Seriously," Bolo Tie agreed, looking angry. "You need to piss off."

Wrist Brace nodded, his chest puffed out like a penguin's, his face red like a lobster's.

Alex looked at the three of them in silence for a very long moment.

He nodded. "Right."

And then he sucker-punched Gold Star in the face.

Alex slid into his seat in first block just as the late bell rang.

"Cutting it a little close, huh?" James said next to him, brows raised.

"Had some things to take care of this morning."

"Oh?"

He shrugged but didn't answer, and instead sunk down in his seat with a silent exhalation of breath. He was exhausted. He'd had to get up early to corner the wrestlers, and he wasn't really getting much sleep to begin with. Not only that but he _really really_ hurt. Especially his hand. Jesus. He made sure to keep his sleeve tugged over it and kept it hidden under his desk.

James eyed him but seemed to sense that he wasn't in the mood to talk just yet, because he turned away to chat with Rose Lawson while Mrs. White took role.

Alex liked that about James- he knew when he shouldn't push things.

15 minutes into class, everyone was handed a packet of Calculus review questions that they were supposed to have finished before the test on Friday. No one was actually working on the packets, of course, and Alex swallowed his nerves as James finally turned back to him.

James stared at him for a moment, and then said, hesitantly, "So you- uh- you good man?"

"Good?" Alex blinked. That hadn't been the question he was expecting. "Yeah James, I'm- I'm good."

"Good, good."

There was an awkward pause then, filled only with the background chatter and laughter of their classmates.

"And you're also…" He leaned forward and pitched his voice low. "...gay?"

Alex felt his lips twitch. It was nice that James was being so careful to keep the revelation a secret. "It's possible," he answered in a normal tone. "I haven't really thought about it too hard, but yeah, apparently I like boys sometimes."

"Oh." James leaned back, looking somewhat bemused. "And… Tom knows, obviously. And you don't…? You don't care if anyone else does?"

"Not really. It doesn't seem like a big deal to me."

"And it's not," James said quickly, and then winced. "I mean, it is? I absolutely care about your sexuality. I- I mean- that is- I _don't_ care about your sexuality. Except to respect it? Um."

Alex finally allowed himself to slip into a broad grin, which seemed to diffuse the other boy's nerves. "James. Mate. I get it. And I appreciate it."

"Ugh. I told myself I was going to be more, you know, put-together about this."

"I think you're taking it pretty well."

"Thanks. And I- I mean it. It's really not a problem. You're still the same old weirdo I've always known, and who you like isn't going to change anything." He paused uneasily. "Unless- you're going to want to talk about boys now? Like, how me and Abhaya talk about girls?"

"Oh don't worry about that. Tom's already given me a whole-hearted and frankly disturbing offer to do the same."

"Well." James winced. "I'm- really sorry about that?"

"Yeah. Me too."

They grinned at each other.

"So then, what about- you know- Day? You- er- like him then?"

"Ah. Well. Yes. I suppose I do."

"Well I can dig it," James said thoughtfully. "I mean, he's pretty good looking. Even if his dye-job is, like, super fake."

He did not seem to mind gossiping about boys as much as he had made it seem.

"I like his hair," Alex defended, and got an eye-roll in return.

"Well of _course_ you do, you've got a major crush on him. I bet you like his eyebrows too."

"What's wrong with his eyebrows?"

"He clearly plucks them or something. Not manly at all."

"How is plucking your eyebrows _not manly?_ Personal hygiene and care is only for girls now?"

James grinned. "Maybe it is, maybe it is. Would explain why half the boys in our grade smell like they just climbed out of a garbage truck."

"You talk as if you're not including yourself in with them."

"Arse."

"Yuppie."

And then Alex and James grinned at each other and that, really, was that.

After Calculus, they met up with Tom at his locker. When he noticed them approaching Tom's eyes lit and he slammed his locker door shut and whirled to face them.

"Is it true?" He demanded as soon as they were within earshot. "Alex, please tell me you did what I think you did. Please tell me it was you. This _reeks_ of you."

Alex opened his mouth, hesitated. Closed his mouth. "That… That depends."

"What's he talking about?" James muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "Alex, what'd you do?"

"That _depends,"_ Alex repeated insistently. "On what _exactly_ you think I did."

"What?"

"Holy hell," Tom breathed, his eyes lighting with glee. "Oh _hell_ it _is_ true. Alex _why?_ "

"What's going on?"

"There were extenuating circumstance," Alex defended. "And anyway, how did you know it was me? Could have been anyone. Could have been an accident. Accidents."

"Seriously guys, what are you talking about, because you're making it sound like Alex killed someone and I don't really want to believe that's true."

"No," Tom snorted while Alex slapped a hand over his face with a low moan. "No murder. Yet. But you direct your gaze subtly to your right and tell me it doesn't look like it came close."

James peered carefully in the direction Tom was indicating and choked on a gasp. "Oh my god, what happened to _him,_ he looks like he got hit by a truck!"

"Not a truck," Tom snickered. "Just Alex."

" _Alex?"_

"Stop looking at him," Alex grit out. "And keep your voice down please."

"So yeah," said Tom. "I think the only thing either of us is really wondering now is why you beat Len Abrams like he slept with your mother. Oh sorry, wait, that's kind of insensitive. But yeah. I've never seen a blacker eye in my life and that's really saying something."

"Did he steal your lunch money?" James suggested. "He looks like the type of person who'd need three breakfasts just to have enough energy to make it out the front door."

Alex gave him a Look. "He's not a _hobbit_ James, he's a bully, and I didn't want to hurt him, but they left me no choice."

" _They?"_

"They," Tom confirmed. "Robert S. and Andre Pritchard are looking just about the same."

"You beat up _three_ boys on the wrestling team and came away without a scratch?" James evoked in disbelief, and Alex grimaced.

"Not quite." He reluctantly bared his right hand and James and Tom both stifled gasps.

"Alex what the _hell?"_

"Jesus! Do you need to go to the nurse?" Tom whipped out and grabbed Alex's wrist and inspected his knuckles. He did so gently, holding his friend's hand with deep care, and Alex swallowed.

"No- I- no, I'm good. Nothing's broken."

"You sure?" James asked. He looked queasy. "That's some- that's some heavy swelling mate."

"No he's right, nothing's broken," Tom confirmed. He released his friend and gave him a soft pat on the back. "I'd suggest still going to the nurse, but I see now you probably wouldn't want that, considering this is all about sending a message and whatnot. Wouldn't want to show any weakness."

"A message?"

Tom nodded thoughtfully, eyeing Alex, who did his best to give him a smile. Judging by Tom's answering grimace, it didn't look the best, so he let it drop from his face. "Alex is a black belt- he knows not to use his fists to punch like that. So I'm guessing he was just trying to prove a point."

"A very painful point," Alex conceded reluctantly.

"So spill. What happened? Give us the details, the deets, the low down. They mess with you?"

"No," He hesitated, then sighed. These were his friends and Tom really would never let it go. "Not… Not me. A friend. They were pushing him around and they really needed to stop. Tried to talk with them but… sometimes talking doesn't work."

"Why punch him though?"

"A power move," Tom broke in. He sounded approving. "You roundhouse kick someone in the face, yeah they're going down, but you _punch_ them like that? A direct shot to the ego, especially if the one doing the punching is like half your size."

James considered. "That's fair. Now look, I need to be getting to Stats, but if you don't text me the full story about this later I'm going to burn your house down. So- adios lads, don't kill anyone before the weekend."

He shot them finger-guns and then disappeared into the crowded hallway.

Tom shook his head after him. "I worry about that boy, I really do. Not as much as I worry about you, of course."

"I'm fine."

"Really?" Tom asked doubtfully and abruptly poked his friend in the ribs- Alex sucked in a pained gasp of shocked breath.

"Yeah you're totally fine."

"Just bruised is all," Alex grit out. "They're wrestlers you know- 's'not like they were incapable of fighting. They landed some pretty solid punches, unfortunately."

Actually Alex felt nearly crippled by the bruises he could feel bleeding into his sides, but he wasn't about to let Tom know that.

"Not on the face, I see."

"Of course not, I have an image to protect."

Tom sighed and gave his friend a look and said, "I expect to hear the full story from you during lunch, you know."

"I know."

Fourth block came quicker than Alex was expecting, but maybe that was because he took a power nap through Physics.

Mrs. Malevowitcz let them get into their groups immediately and Alex reluctantly joined up with Maria, Day, and Martinique.

"So what progress did you make last night?" Martinique asked, sliding open her notebook. "I've compiled two lists: people in my life who fit, and historical characters who fit. Maria?"

Maria grinned at her and presented her own list with a flourish. "Ta-da! Eight couples I know who we could consider using in our project!"

"Awesome. Real people?"

"Yep!"

"Great. Day?"

He pulled a tightly folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. "Five individual people I found from researching world history."

"Hand me that? Thanks. Alex?"

Alex slid her his sheet of paper without a word.

"Hmm." Martinique examined it for a moment. "Okay, have a pretty good mix of people here. Glad none of you are slackers."

"Thanks," Day deadpanned.

After that, they worked heavily until near to the end of class. Alex was thankful for it. His morning had exhausted him and being so close to Day made him very tense. Focusing on his school work gave him something to distract himself with.

But soon they had done all they could that day and, noticing how they were winding down, Martinique shut her binder with a resounding thump.

"Okay. Good work. Nothing more to be done, so time to relax."

"Are you staying today?" Maria grinned.

"Is Tom going to keep at least a 10 meter distance between us?"

"Looks like it," Maria responded eyeing Tom, and they all simultaneously turned to look.

Tom was holding Abhaya's hand tightly in his own two, peering deep into his eyes. He was speaking, low and urgent, and though none of them could hear what was being said, it must have been incredibly riveting, judging by the fascinated look on Abhaya's face.

"What exactly is going on there?" Martinique muttered, looking almost baffled.

"He's learned to read palms," Alex sighed. "Or at least, he says he's learned, but I'm pretty sure he's just making up whatever comes to mind with no regard to anything."

Martinique raised a brow. "Isn't that what palm reading is anyway?"

"Hey there is an actual basis to it you know," Maria objected. "You must know the heartline and the lifeline and- well- that's actually all I know, but a professional palm reader would probably know the rest."

"But I think it's safe to assume Tom- well- _isn't_ a professional?" Day said, his smirk nearly morphing into a grin.

"Not even the slightest," Alex confirmed. "I don't think he's even done a preliminary Google search on this stuff."

Maria smothered her giggles. "What an icon. Truly- what a symbol of inspiration. The way he just- _makes things up-_ honestly, it's truly an innate talent of his, I think."

And indeed- it was. Tom never _lied,_ exactly. In fact, if you asked him a direct question he would, more often than not, give you in return a very direct answer. In the earlier years of his life, this had gifted him with certain troubles in making friends-he was blunt, perhaps too blunt, and sometimes he came off as a little callous- at the very least, somewhat insensitive. But as his parent's relationship had dissolved like sugar in pot of hot tea, Tom had picked up a new skill: obscuring the truth. Without lying, because with lies, you can get tripped up, forget things, make mistakes.

But... blatant, outright bullshit? That didn't need careful detailing, or a long mental list of falsified facts. It just needed the ability to think on your feet and not care what anyone else thought.

Two characteristics Tom had developed in spades.

"Another innate talent of his just so happens to be making me want to end my own life, so can we please stop staring at him?" Martinique said. "Many animals possess some form of gaze detection, you know."

"You're the one who mentioned him in the first place," Day pointed out, and he seemed to have given up on trying to keep the grin off his face. He had very pointy canine teeth, and his teeth were all very white.

"And maybe don't refer to Tom as an animal," Alex added. "I know his sense of humour can be kind of- well, weird- but he's as civilized as the rest of us. Mostly."

"Whatever," Martinique muttered, and Maria took that as her cue to jump in.

"So speaking of uncivilized behaviour- what do you think happened to Len, Robert, and Andre? You have seen them, right?"

Alex caught his breath. He silently cursed Maria and her habits centered around gossip and intelligence gathering.

"Oh God yes," Day shook his head. "It's like they just got back from a war zone. What the hell happened?"

Martinique shrugged and scowled. "I don't know but they've all been even more annoying than usual. Andre dribbled _blood_ on my Statistics homework when I was passing it in. Wow."

"Wow," Maria agreed. "They really are in bad shape. It's super bizarre, but I haven't actually _heard_ anything about what happened. Like, no one knows anything! You think they did this to themselves? Like, they were fighting each other?"

"I mean they're wrestlers, right? Couldn't it have just happened in practice?" Martinique asked doubtfully.

"No," Maria shook her head. "No, all the other wrestlers are losing their _minds_. Len's still recovering from his sprained wrist and if he get hurt again he's off. Which would really screw the team over because he's one of their best wrestlers. Matters is on the war path."

Alex winced and Day immediately spoke up. "Alex? You know anything?"

He looked up from where he had been intently studying the worn desktop surface in front of him. "Me? No. Just as much as you guys. They were all messed up after my first block. Whatever it was happened before then, I guess." He did his best to make eye contact with Day, keeping his expression carefully controlled.

Day raised a dark brow. "Yeah? You have any ideas?"

"No."

They waited for him to add anything else, but when it became clear that he wasn't going to continue, Martinique huffed and rolled her eyes. "Well, whatever happened, I'm sure it served them right. Our school's wrestling team is filled with nothing but hypermasculine assholes."

"They're not all that bad," Maria objected. "I mean, yeah, some of them can be a little hard to get along with, but really, most aren't."

"If you say so," Martinique said doubtfully. "From what I've observed, they're not the best people. They're sexist and racist and disruptive in class-"

"That's just a few of them," Maria said. "Like- well, like Andre, and Robert, and Len, I'll admit that. But Abraham Santos is honestly just the best. And Tyler- you have second period with him Alex- he's the sweetest boy you'll ever meet. Tell her, Alex."

"He's the sweetest," Alex deadpanned dutifully, and Day hid a smirk.

Martinique pursed her lips. "Your argument is kind of undermined by the fact that three of them have apparently been brawling each other in the early morning hours."

"Maybe. We don't actually know what's happened yet." She rubbed her hands together. "I honestly can't wait to find out. I'll let you guys know when I hear."

"Thanks a lot."

Maria arched an eyebrow at Day and he laughed. "No, really, Maria, thanks a lot. I'm curious too. I appreciate being kept in the loop."

"And I don't really care," Martinique broke in. "The bell's about to ring, can we talk a little more about our project before it's too late? Like when and where we're going to meet to wrap everything up?"

"Public library?" Alex suggested.

"We won't be able to practice presenting."

"My house is open," Maria offered. "Although, to be honest, you guys probably don't want to go there. I have a lot of siblings and it's not the biggest house, so it can get kind of- er- chaotic."

Alex just sat in silence. No way was he going to let anyone from school come over to his house. No way. They would have to meet Alil, which would be _terrible_. Actually awful. They would ask ' _Who is that?'_ or ' _Where are your parents?'_ or maybe in Maria's case, ' _What happened to your uncle, Alex, didn't you use to live with him?'_ because she seemed like the type of person to remember that. And what was he supposed to say?

 _Yeah, they're all dead. Everyone who has ever loved me has gone and died leaving me alone with no one and nothing except for this extremely bitter ex-soldier who can't even be bothered to buy his own groceries. The bathroom is down the hall on the left._

Just wasn't going to happen.

Martinique raised her brows at him and he raised his back.

"Okay," she said, "My house is also going to be full with guests this week and and next so mine is out too."

"Er- well, I guess, you guys can come over to mine?" Day offered hesitantly. "I have two sisters, but I can have them go over to my aunt's house to give us some space. My mum wouldn't mind."

"Great. Can we tentatively set this for Saturday?"

"Yeah, Saturday works. What time?"

"Four? Five?"

"4:30," Day compromised. "No problem."

"Works for me," Maria said, and Alex nodded.

"I'm available."

"Awesome. It's settled. Though hopefully we can get a lot of this done tomorrow so we don't need to take up your house for too long."

Day waved away her worries. "Don't worry about it, my mom loves it when I have friends over anyway."

Alex had a sudden flash of memory, as his uncle's face came to mind, softening with relief as Alex ushered Tom through the door. Ian had felt the same- always thankful that Alex wasn't _alone._ That he had friends. Perhaps he had been afraid that Alex didn't have any.

Maybe Day's mother was the same. Although Alex couldn't imagine that anybody could ever doubt _Day_ having _friends._ He was too- too _nice._ Too _cool_.

The bell rang before he could finish his thoughts, and Martinique was, as usual, the first one out the door. Maria gathered her stuff up and wandered over to a group in the corner.

Day smiled at Alex. It was just the two of them. "So you walk home, right?"

"Uh-" Alex twitched a smile back awkwardly. "Yes, I, uh. Walk." Oh god. "And- er- you take the bus?"

"The tube. You must live close by then, if you walk to and from school."

"Not really."

Day waited patiently for him to continue.

"Um. Well. I'm about 30 minutes away. From school. By foot, obviously."

"Obviously," Day agreed, and Alex felt a traitorous blush rise to his cheeks. Oh god. This was terrible. Why were they still sitting? He stood abruptly.

"Well. I'll see you tomorrow then, I guess."

Day stood with him. "Mind if I walk you out?"

"No. I mean, no I don't mind," He corrected quickly. "If- if that's what you want."

"It is. Thanks."

Why was Day thanking him? Nothing was making any sense. Why were they even still talking? He glanced around the room quickly and met Tom's wide eyes.

Tom nodded his head enthusiastically and gave him two huge thumbs up. _Nice job!_ He mouthed. He was practically vibrating in place with the sheer force of his condensed happiness.

Alex wished he could take credit, but he had absolutely no idea why Day was still talking to him, so he shrugged and waved.

 _I'll text you,_ Tom mouthed, miming sending a message.

Awesome.

He walked out of the building with Day, glancing at the boy next to him ever so often. Day seemed content to walk in silence until they had both pushed through the doors of the school and emerged into the bright sunlight of the outside world.

Alex took a deep breath of clean fresh air to stabilize himself. He shouldn't be so thrown off by just _talking_ to a boy. He was better than this. _Talking_ was a walk in the park in comparison to some of the things he'd been forced to do in his life and-

He cut off those thoughts abruptly.

No. Not the time.

Day's voice distracted him before he could wander off any further. "So I've got some time to kill and I don't really want to hang around here. Do you mind if I walk with you a bit?"

He caught himself before he could let out the stupid breathy _You want to walk with me?_ that he could feel bubbling up his throat.

"Of course you can," he said instead, firmly. "I'm this way. Like I said, about 30 minutes away. You are welcome to come as far as you want."

"You're a lifesaver mate." Day smiled at him, then, and it was like the sun. Alex had to look away.

"No- No problem." He hitched his backpack up his back more securely and the two of them started down the street, weaving in and out of other students who were hanging out and chatting, laughing at jokes and shoving each other in fun.

"Where do you live?" He asked, because he thought that he should.

"Near Hickory Point. I'm in an apartment close to the old cement factory- you know it?"

"I do actually, yeah. You like it there?"

"Well enough. There's a park pretty close by for my dog, which is cool."

Alex's head whipped up and he stopped walking. "You have a dog?"

Day stopped walking too and beamed down at him.

"A German Shepherd. Her name is Molly. Do you want to see some pictures? She's beautiful, I promise you."

" _Please."_ He knew he probably sounded a little too overeager but. Well. Day also seemed overeager, if the way he whipped his phone out was any indication.

"Okay, so here's my favourite one, this is her on her birthday, my sister made her a cake- dog safe of course- and my mom bought her a hat, and do you see that? She was so happy, it was the best day ever for all of us-"

"Oh my god, she's so _cute_ -"

"And here's my second favourite, we went on a family roadtrip to the mountains and we got her a little harness and she's rock climbing with us, she's so talented-"

"- _So_ talented-" Alex agreed, and Day swiped to the next picture and shoved the phone into Alex's hands.

"And look- this one has Molly and _both_ my sisters, so it's honestly my favourite, even though I do have other favourites. Look, zoom in, Molly looks like she's smiling."

Alex pinched the screen with his fingers and blew up the picture. "Oh my god," He said frankly. "She _does_ look like she's smiling. Your dog is so _cute_."

He looked up at Day, eyes bright, opening his mouth to ask how old she was- and stopped short. Day was staring, wide-eyed, at the phone in his hands. Or- no- not the phone. Just the hands. Actually just the one.

Alex glanced down. It was- well, it was honestly a pretty horrible sight. Not like the worst thing ever, but… Not good.

The first two knuckles of his right hands were swollen up like they'd been inflated with air, and all of the knuckles looked like they'd been scraped raw, bruises purpling the skin and creeping down toward his wrist. Three of the nails on his hand were also noticeably red from where they had been bleeding at the base.

There was a long period of silence. Alex handed back the phone. There was more silence.

"So," Day asked finally. "What happened to your hand?"

"Just- just an accident. Nothing to worry about."

"Really? So the fact that it looks like someone took a hammer to it is totally alright."

"I- It got shut in a car door. My fault. I should have moved quicker."

Day just looked at him, and he forced himself to stare back levelly. This was none of Day's concern, and he would _not_ be getting him involved. He shook his sleeve back over his hand and carefully hid it down by his side.

"Okay." Day said finally. "Sure. A door. I mean, looks like maybe you smashed someone in the face with your fist, but- a door."

More silence. Alex had nothing to say.

"How's the rest of you? Fine?"

And Alex blinked at him. "I- uh- yes? I'm- I mean, I'm okay. It was... just my hand."

"Sure," Day repeated. "Well. If you say so. I mean, as long as you're okay."

"I do. I am."

There was more silence.

Alex _really_ didn't know what was going on. He waited for Day to ask more questions but- he seemed… to be respecting the answers he was given? Alex just... didn't understand.

He cleared his throat.

"So- are you heading home now, then?"

"Oh- well, I can. I kind of wanted to walk with you a bit more though."

"You do."

"Well, yeah," Day shrugged. "You're- I mean- I like you, Alex. Despite the fact that you are apparently prone to accidents and we actually don't really talk much in general. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I do like talking to you."

"I… like talking to you too. I like your dog."

This was quickly verging back toward terrible. Alex was losing the resolution he had to keep things not-weird, because Day was just being… _strange._ Day obviously didn't believe his lie about how he'd hurt himself, and Alex was obviously being a freak and had even tried to excuse Day away. Anyone else would have taken that as their cue to go, but… Day was sticking around. He seemed genuinely concerned, but he wasn't pushing it, and he _was sticking around_.

It didn't make any sense. He couldn't wait to talk to Tom about this.

Day started walking again slowly, glancing to make sure Alex was keeping up.

"Well, um." Alex scrambled for something to say. "Thanks again for letting us use your house as home base on this project? Now I can't wait to see your dog."

It was an absolutely _horrible_ subject change, but Day just smiled.

"You're going to _love_ her," He promised.

Alex didn't doubt it.

When Alex eased the door open and slid inside, he knew immediately that Alil was in a Mood.

"Jesus," he said quietly, and walked cautiously into the kitchen, breathing shallowly through his mouth.

Alil was sitting at the kitchen table, again. That seemed to be the only place Alex ever found him, which- meant something, but Alex didn't know what, exactly. Ava Scott, his first guardian, had made herself right at home, sleeping in Ian's old room, and making herself a little space in the dining room where she did her paperwork every night. Jerred Paul, Monika Borisov, and Cornelio Weick had done much the same, taking over the place like it was their own house.

But Alil? He was at the kitchen table or the couch. There was no in between, nowhere else. He actually slept on the couch. Alex didn't mind, because, well, that's what he wanted, wasn't it? To keep their lives separate?

He did, however, mind the smells.

"Alil. What is that?"

Alil looked up. He'd been doing what looked like a crossword, and it was half finished. He was wearing a crumpled tank top and his eyes were red and Alex knew without a doubt that he'd been crying.

Oh hell.

"Well it was _going_ to be dinner, but I fucked even that up, didn't I?"

Alex looked into the sink. There was a dish of nearly blackened pasta puttanesca lying half soaked in the drain. There were charred pieces of bread stacked on top of that, cold.

"How long have these been sitting here?"

"I don't know. A while."

Alex swallowed a sigh. "Thanks for trying to cook."

He flinched, startled, when Alil shoved his chair back wildly from the table, sending it crashing to the ground. " _God_ you can be a real prick, you know that?" Alil almost snarled, shoulders tensed. "I try to do something _nice_ for you and you just have to throw it back in my face!"

"What? No, I was being serious, you were trying to cook-"

"I'm not a fucking _infant_ , I am capable of _cooking_."

"Well obviously," Alex bit out before he could stop himself. "You're not _that_ capable, judging by the mess you left in the sink."

Alil froze for a moment before grabbing his pen and _hurling_ it at Alex's face. "Just get the hell out of here!" He shouted. "I do so much for you and you don't even care! I should just stop fucking trying!"

Alex dodged the pen with a small gasp and quickly backed out of the room, eyes wide. It was just a pen, it wouldn't hurt him, but _god_ he wasn't expecting such a reaction from Alil.

He whirled around and stomped up the stairs resolutely ignoring the stifled sobs that he could hear quietly growing from the kitchen.

Alil's problems weren't his problems, and he was _not_ going to deal with them.

He slammed the door and collapsed on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling. He'd just have to get something to eat later, when Alil inevitably collapsed from exhaustion on the couch.

 _God_ today had been… today had been _full_.

He pulled out his phone and shot Tom a text.

 _You out of practice yet? Things are really weird mate_

There was no response, but he didn't expect one. Usually football practice ran for at least two hours, so he had about an hour left to wait.

He picked up a book from his bedside table and started reading to pass the time. He didn't feel like doing homework, not now.

He must have gotten pretty caught up in his book, because before he knew it his phone was buzzing on the bed next to him, and he tossed down his book to pick it up.

TOM: _What happened? ? ? ? OMG Alex details! !_

TOM: _How far did u two walk? ? What did u talk about?_

TOM: _? ? ? ? ? ? ?_

Alex breathed out a little laugh. Tom was always so _enthusiastic_.

ME: _He walked with me all the way to Fulten and Somerset_

ME: _We took like 45 minutes_

ME: _Walked very slowly_

TOM: _OMG_

TOM: _! !_

TOM: _And? ?_

ME: _He showed me pics of his dog_

ME: _Talked about where he used to live (Birmingham)_

ME: _Also movies. And just… random stuff_

TOM: _Like what? ?_

TOM: _Omg_

ME: _Like…_

ME: _If teachers at our school were book characters_

ME: _Who would they be_

TOM: _That's so cute_

Alex blushed. It had been… nice. Speaking with Day so candidly about things that didn't really _matter_. It was just _fun._ He only ever really talked like that with Tom.

TOM: _What else? ?_

ME: _Well…_

ME: …

ME: _He noticed I was a little banged up from this morning_

ME: _Asked about it_

ME: _I lied, of course_

TOM: _Of course_

TOM: _Lol_

ME: _And he didn't believe me_

ME: _But he let it go_

ME: _And then he kept talking to me_

TOM: …

ME: _He said he liked talking to me_

TOM: _Of course he does_

TOM: _U are a highly likeable person_

TOM: _I am so proud of u_

TOM: _Did you get his #? ?_

ME: _I'm in a group chat with him for our lit project_

TOM: _Omg! So are you going to text him?_

ME: _Why would I do that? ?_

TOM: _To let him know u had a good time! !_

TOM: _It will keep u in his thoughts_

ME: _No._

TOM: _No? ? ?_

ME: _We had a good time. I'm not pushing it._

TOM: _:'( :'( :'(_

TOM: _U should push a little_

ME: _No_

TOM: _U suck_

TOM: _But okay_

TOM: _Good work for today_

TOM: _What else is up with u? How is Alil?_

Alex hesitated. He bit his lip. He had initially been planning on unloading to Tom about Alil, but… maybe he shouldn't. It wasn't a big deal, and he knew that Tom would only worry. There was no point in that. Nothing had actually _happened,_ and it was so nice hearing Tom so excited (even if maybe he was a little _too_ excited).

ME: _He's fine. Still at the kitchen table_

 _No point,_ he reaffirmed to himself, settling back more comfortably to text with Tom. _Things are fine._

They were fine.

* * *

 **AN: Omg so uhhhh I literally have no excuse for not posting this earlier? I am so sorry? I finished this chapter a long time ago and it has just been sitting in my computer, waiting for me to edit it. But now I finally got around to it!**

 **Things have been super intense lately- mostly in good ways, fortunately, but also some bad- but I think now I will be able to develop a better writing schedule. Fingers crossed anyway lol**

 **Anyway, I have already started the next chapter, so hopefully it won't take too long to upload! We'll be seeing more of helpful, mentor-figure Jerry, and you'll get a bit more information on what Alil's deal is. Very excited to keep writing!**

 **Thanks for all the reviews which were REALLY helpful in getting this chapter uploaded, and the start of the next chapter written, omg you have no idea. I am going to try to respond to y'all in these next few days, I just really appreciate all of the feedback so much and I don't think I've been expressing that very well, if at all. Like, seriously, god bless you people.**

 **Oh and also! I was having a really difficult time formatting the text-messages, so sorry if they end up with weird spacing. I'll try to fix that next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

Alex woke with a near silent gasp, tears flowing freely down his face.

"Damn it," he hissed, struggling to regain mastery of his breathing. " _Damn_ it."

He fisted his shirt over his chest and pressed down to feel his heartbeat. It was hammering wildly, pounding like the panicked wings of a caged bird struggling to fly free. He closed his eyes and focused on his body, feeling the blood rushing through his veins, his head throbbing, sweat clinging to his skin.

He took a deep breath.

In. Out.

Then another.

In…. Out.

He lay there and repeated his breathing exercise until he felt safe enough to sit up.

Things really weren't getting better, were they?

He stumbled to the bathroom and collapsed against the sink. He turned on the faucet with a shaky hand.

What had his dream even been about? It was bleeding away from him like ink in water, and he couldn't- he couldn't-

It had been about Sarov, he realized, splashing his face with cold water. He didn't remember much, which, honestly, he was pretty thankful for, but he did remember enough. A spray of blood. It was in his eyes. His mouth. He was choking on it, a high whine was rising in his throat and he could tell he was in shock, he couldn't stop staring at the caved in gore that used to be a head, blood and brain matter and shards of bone and-

He shut off the faucet.

He needed a shower.

When he was finally cleaned and dry and dressed, he opened the door of his bedroom and was immediately greeted by the smell of frying eggs. He cautiously descended the stairs to find Alil standing in front of the stove, prodding at a pan with a spatula.

"What's this then?" He asked warily, and Alil spun around, spatula raising.

"Alex! You- uh- you scared me." He lowered the spatula, and then lowered his eyes as well. He was the perfect picture of contrition. "I'm- well- can you sit down?"

Alex stared at him quietly. This was not what he had been expecting. "Why?" He asked finally.

"I just- Alex, please. I want…. I want to apologize to you."

"Really?"

"Yes really." He sounded almost as tired as Alex felt. "Alex, _please_."

Alex walked to the table and sat. Alil hovered awkwardly for a moment, and then sat across from him.

"Look," Alil said, eyes glued to his hands. He was still holding the spatula, and he put it down and coughed. "Look," he began again and plowed on. "What I said to you last night was wrong, okay? I know that. I really overreacted. You just- you just made me so _mad_ and I was in a bad place, and I let my emotions get away with me. So. I'm sorry."

"You also threw a pen at me," Alex pointed out quietly, and Alil's jaw tightened. But instead of getting angry, like Alex expected, he merely hunched into himself.

"I'm sorry about that too."

They sat painfully in silence for a minute or two, Alil staring at his knuckles, Alex staring at Alil. This was rather unlike what he'd come to expect from the man. He wasn't sure he liked it.

"Thank you for apologizing." Alex finally said, simply. He did not accept Alil's apology. But he also did not reject it. "Are you… feeling better today?"

"I'm not going to have a _breakdown_ if that's what you're asking."

It was.

"Will you be here tonight?" his guardian asked him, and Alex shrugged.

"Sure. But it'll be later. Don't wait up for me."

Alil cut his eyes to him, but he just stared back expressionlessly. Alil had never waited up for him. Not once.

It wasn't something he had ever cared about, although he knew other people had adults in their lives who would. He knew Abhaya's mother couldn't even fall asleep without knowing that her son was safely back in the house after a long day out with friends. He knew this because Abhaya liked to joke about it, fondly- his mother's loving paranoia.

But Alil would never do that, and Alex would never care, because they had a different relationship than most teenagers had with the people who looked over them. And things weren't perfect between him and Alil, but he didn't need anything more. He didn't _want_ anything more.

After searching his eyes for any sort of malice, and apparently not finding any, Alil relaxed back in his seat. "Okay. You, uh, you want some eggs?"

"They turned out better than the pasta did?"

Alil tensed, and Alex winced. "Sorry, that was… a joke. I'm sorry."

"Well, it would be hard to turn out worse, huh?" Alil said quietly, standing to scoop Alex some eggs. And because Alil practically lived at the kitchen table, the two of them then proceeded to sit in painful silence as they ate the eggs.

Alex wished he could go back to sleep.

* * *

It was a teaching day in English, and he kept his head low to his desk the entire time, pretending to take notes.

He was not taking notes.

In fact, he wasn't really doing much. His body still really hurt, despite the icing and medication he'd doctored it all with the night before, and the sleeve of his shirt kept scratching at his hand. He was trying his best to keep as still as possible.

Every so often his eyes would pull up to drift around the room, but he wasn't really taking anything in.

Caring was just so… exhausting. He couldn't find a better word for it. It felt strange that he could be here, sitting in class surrounded by his peers, when everything was just- it was just _wrong_. Nothing _felt_ good. Nothing ever felt good. He was numb all the time and his entire body felt like an empty shell filled to the brim with gooey, surging _badness._

He thought he might hate himself.

But he also didn't even have the energy for that.

He wished he were in bed, laying under the covers, staring at his blank wall so he didn't have to deal with anything but the whiteness staring back. He wished he could just stay there and never leave, he wished he didn't have to get up for food or water or for showers, he wished he could just lay there, he _wished_ he were-

He cut those thoughts off abruptly. No. He was glad he was here. At school. With his friends. With the people who cared about him and those that didn't, but not in a _bad_ way, but in a freeing way. In school, he didn't have to justify his existence. He could just be.

School was good. He was glad he was here. He was glad he was here.

He repeated this to himself a few more times, and then picked up his pen and put the tip to paper, determined to make it through.

* * *

Both Tom and Day caught up with him outside of class, and Alex felt like he'd fallen into a different dimension.

"You want to do _Brave_ next?" Tom asked as he walked up, just as Day blurted out, "Alex wait up!" and pushed his way through the straggling students crowding the door.

Both Tom and Alex turned to him, taken aback. Well, Alex was taken aback. It was difficult to tell with Tom, but judging by the almost painful widening of his eyes, and the way his hands were starting to shake like he'd downed a gallon of caffeine, he was bordering on sheer manic glee. That or a heart attack.

"Uh." Alex said.

"Holy shit," Tom whispered under his breath, voice quavering.

"Yes?"

"Yeah," Day said, coming to stop next to them. He looked between the two of them. "Um."

"Oh wow," Tom said faintly. "I'm going to give you some privacy, okay? Right? I'll just be- over there. Drinking some water. Staying hydrated. A few cold sips for me. You know how it goes."

Day blinked, and Alex felt himself flush. Dear God. He loved Tom, but _dear God._ He had absolutely zero subtlety whatsoever. Alex watched in pain as Tom backed away quickly and made a beeline for the water fountain at the end of the hall.

"Hmm." Day said. "I feel like... Tom is… hmm."

"That's a surprisingly accurate sentiment given the complete lack of coherency."

Day laughed outright at that, and, to his surprise, Alex felt himself relax at the sound.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Not really. I just wanted to let you know that… well, I had a good time walking with you yesterday."

"Oh, uh, I really… enjoyed it too?" He flushed as he couldn't stop his voice from rising into a question.

Day smiled down at him, and Alex felt his face grow even warmer.

"That's really great to hear! I was wondering if we could walk a little more today too?"

"You want to walk with me again?" He blurted and Day cocked his head.

"Yes. You're really funny, you know. In a kind of dry, sarcastic way, but I quite like that."

Alex felt… Well to be honest, Alex felt like he was suffocating. Maybe after all this time, this was how he was going to die.

 _He thinks I'm funny,_ he thought faintly, and then realized that he was still staring at Day while the other boy was waiting patiently for an answer. He was always so patient. God.

"Well I'd really like that, but I'm going to Tom's house today," he answered finally and Day actually looked _disappointed._

"Oh right, I heard him asking about _Brave_ as I walked up. Well, that's okay, maybe another time? If you want?"

"I would want that. Thank you… for asking, I mean. I- uh- would really like that. To walk with you."

He clamped his jaw shut abruptly. He was failing at basic social interactions _again_ , he really needed to get a grip.

Day's smile widened, but to Alex's immense relief and gratitude, he didn't laugh.

"Cool. Well, I'll leave you to it then. Bye Alex."

He brushed a pat against his shoulder, and then was gone, leaving Alex to stare after him, eyes wide and heart stuttering.

Tom appeared at his side so suddenly that Alex physically startled.

"Well?" Tom demanded. "What did he say? You were so red I could see it all the way from the water fountain! Spill!"

"He uh-" Alex cleared his throat and centered himself. "He asked me if I wanted to walk with him again."

"Oh my god!"

"And I turned him down because we're watching movies at your house," Alex continued.

"Oh my god?"

"But he was fine with it and said that we could walk together another time," he concluded.

Tom threw a hand over his chest and gasped. Alex would have been embarrassed except for the fact that he could tell that Tom's reactions were totally sincere.

"Mate," Tom breathed. "This is _great_ news."

"I guess. He's definitely very friendly."

"Alex," Tom intoned, but before Alex could respond, a large projectile hurtled itself into his body with tremendous force.

"Alex!"

He looked down at the lump which had attached itself to his torso. "Dima?"

"I know it was you, I just cannot believe it, you actually did that for me?"

"Uh."

Dima looked up at him, tears in his eyes. " _Thank_ you. You've- you've changed my life. I don't even know what to say to you, I just- thank you so _much_."

Alex glanced around awkwardly. Nobody seemed to be paying much attention, thank goodness. "If I _were_ to know what you were talking about, I'd tell you don't mention it. You're my friend. But… I obviously don't know what you're talking about, so."

"Я никогда не смогу отплатить тебе." Dima said sincerely.

" _You don't need to repay me,"_ Alex responded in Russian. " _Just… Like I said, you're my friend. That's all there is to it. If anyone else bothers you, let me know. You're a good kid. People shouldn't mess with you."_

Dima gave him a watery smile and a quick hug. "Thank you," He muffled into Alex's shirt, and looked up at him once more. "I have practice now, but can we talk more later? Please?"

Alex laid a hand gently on the boy's head. "Of course."

Dima smiled happily and then was gone.

"I have no idea what was just said but that was cute as heck." Tom patted him on the back. "You've got a couple admirers now, I see."

"Shut up."

30 minutes later they were rattling up the stairs to the Harris apartment.

"It's just completely unrealistic that Jasmine would just, like, _not_ be able to tell that it's Aladdin, just because he's changed clothes."

"Well, he also was probably much cleaner. And he was acting like a prince. She knew him as a street rat, so probably she saw the resemblance, but it would be pretty crazy to think that this homeless guy she knew was masquerading around as an opulently wealthy foreign royal."

"Still," Tom complained. "It's like the whole Clark Kent/Superman thing. How could Lois Lane not see that they were the same people? She, like, worked with both of them for years! Spoke to them! Was friends with them."

"Well, I mean, yeah that's kind of- kind of a fair point. But I guess it goes back to the psychology of it all. Behaviour and expectations play a really huge part in perception."

"You wouldn't be able to tell it was me if I was suddenly wearing glasses and had different posture?" Tom demanded as he rummaged around for his key. "Really?"

He fitted the key in the door and unlocked it.

"Okay once again _fair point_ , but I just think that-"

He stopped abruptly as the door swung open.

"Oh my god."

Jerry peered out at both of them, holding a tray of cheese and crackers. "Surprise?" Six foreign faces craned out to look past him at both of the boys.

"Um." Tom said, stepping in hesitantly. "Is this- are you having a party? Did we miss your birthday or something?"

"Or something. Can't a guy just have his friends over for a nice night of cheese and wine and gossip?"

Alex furrowed his brow and followed the the Harris brothers into the kitchen. As far as he knew, most of Jerry's close friends were back in Italy. He had never had such a large gathering of people in the house in all the time Alex had been visiting. "I didn't know you were going to have guests over today. Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" Jerry blurted. "No, absolutely not!"

"Uh-"

"In fact, why don't you go take this platter out to everyone and introduce yourself. I have to- er- talk to Tom about- about something. Go on."

Alex took the tray with some trepidation. Jerry was being very blatantly, obviously suspicious. He obviously wanted Alex to meet his guests, but… why? His mind raced. He narrowed his eyes at Jerry.

"Well. If you're sure that this is what you want."

"I'm sure," Jerry said firmly. "You'll like them, trust me. Just do me a favour and entertain them for a few minutes. I'll be right out, I promise."

So, so incredibly suspicious. Alex was even more wary. Jerry was a good guy and all, and- well- Alex _did_ trust him. Really. But he really didn't do so well with _people_ nowadays. New faces in unexpected places always set him on edge, and to have six new faces? All at once? In one of his safe spaces? Definitely made him a little uncomfortable.

But… Jerry really had done _so much_ for him, and he deserved some faith.

"Okay," he sighed, and with one last doubtful glare at the brothers, headed out.

He was met by 6 pairs of curious eyes.

"Jerry wanted me to give you these." He put the tray on the table and then sat down in a free chair, because if he was going to suffer, why not really just dive right in? "I'm Alex, I'm one of Tom's friends."

"We know," One of the men blurted out, before getting abruptly elbowed in the ribs by the woman to his right.

"Abdul," She hissed, and then blushed under his narrowed gaze. "I'm- uh- Ad'ifaah Mahesar. It's nice to meet you."

That name was incredibly familiar, Alex realized as he nodded at her, and it took him only a few moments for recognition to click. Ah. Oh boy.

"This is Abdul," She introduced, waving a hand at the man. "And these are- uh- would you guys like to introduce yourselves?"

"Janet Baxter." A green haired woman with a bright red coat.

"Destinee Talat, nice to meet you." A smiling young woman with a springy afro.

"Reuben White, glad to meet you." A relaxed looking man with a polka dot bowtie.

"Mark Lowell." A light skinned man with a crooked nose.

Mark. Damn it. He was right. He also wondered how exactly they were going to pull this off.

"It's nice to meet all of you." He said.

"And it's absolutely great to meet you too," Ad'ifaah said. "We were just talking about- uh- Janet's girlfriend?"

"Absolutely," Destinee jumped in immediately. "And my girlfriend too. Because I also have a girlfriend. I am a woman dating another woman. And we love each other very much."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Alex said. "And I don't suppose anyone else here just so happens to be part of the LGBT community?"

There was silence for a moment while the group in Jerry's living room looked at each other.

"Uh." Said Mark.

"Weeell," Reuben drew out.

Ad'ifaah coughed awkwardly. "You, er, picked up on that?"

"It would be really really hard not to," Alex told her. "You guys aren't being particularly subtle, and, well, I _do_ know Jerry."

"He does know me," Jerry admitted, and they all turned to look to where Jerry was leaning guiltily against the doorway to he kitchen. "So I guess you figured me out, huh?"

"I mean, I _guess_. But… why?"

"I thought maybe it would be best to, like, give you options. To explore yourself a little, you know? I first came out to myself when I was 16 and I was really confused by what I was feeling. At first I thought I was gay. And, you know, in the end I wasn't, but it was a really frustrating journey to figure that out, and it would have been really helpful for me to talk to some other people who had already experienced what I was experiencing. And like, I have the power to provide that for you, something I never had, and it would be awful of me not to, like, do that?" Jerry shrugged, looking embarrassed, and ran a hand through his spiky bleached hair. "And if you don't want to talk to them or ask any questions or anything, you don't have to, but you can if you want and nobody will mind."

Tom stuck his head out from under Jerry's elbow. "And for the record, I also want to ask some questions! If that's okay. And not, like, offensive or anything. I mean I can Google it all if that would be better."

Abdul stifled a grin. "Oh man, Tom, nah bro, of course you can ask your questions. Get in here."

Tom trotted happily into the living room and sat primly on the edge of the couch Janet, Abdul, and Ad'ifaah were sitting on.

Alex stared at them all. Oh. Oh wow. Jerry was being… he was being so _nice_. He had put so much effort into this gathering, and these people- these strangers- had traveled all the way here for this. For him. It would be so incredibly rude _not_ to ask them any questions.

So.

He guessed that was just something he was going to have to do.

Not that he was necessarily… _upset_ about that. In fact, he really _did_ have some questions he wanted to ask, like actually, for himself, for real. Just… it was _weird_. He was going to sit here? And talk to these strangers? About his _feelings?_ Alex barely talked about his feelings just in general.

But… Jerry looked… He looked so _hopeful_. And it would be wrong to let him down now, after everything he'd done for him.

"Okay," he said. "That… That makes sense to me. Thanks Jerry."

Jerry beamed at him. "You're _welcome_."

He looked so relieved and proud and Alex immediately made the decision to go into this as open-mindedly as he could.

Five minutes later Tom had hooked up his phone to Jerry's bluetooth speaker and everyone was up and mingling while electro-swing music bounced through the air.

The first person he talked to was Destinee Talat, the woman with the afro. She was, Alex decided quickly, very nice.

"So Jerry hasn't told us much about you, sweetie, just that you're questioning some of your feelings for other people. Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Yes," he said, determined. "I- yes. I have been experiencing attraction for a boy at my school."

"Okay," Destinee nodded softly. "Is this the first time you've experienced attraction for someone of the same gender?"

"Yes. This is the first time."

"Well that can be scary then, I understand that. The first time I got a crush on a girl I locked myself in my room and cried for weeks! I tried my hardest to convince myself that it was all a mistake, that I was wrong. Things would be so much _easier_ if I were straight."

"Alright but… what if I'm not scared? And I don't think I'm ashamed."

There were too many other things in his life to be ashamed of, after all. Liking boys didn't even register.

"Well then that's great, sweetheart! It took me nearly ten years to get over my fears." Destinee sighed. "If only I had been able to get over them sooner. I wasted too much of my life being afraid of myself. I'm glad you might be able to bypass all that."

"Yeah…"

"And not to be edgy or anything, but.. just because you're not feeling these things now, doesn't mean they might not pop up in the future. And that will really suck, but it's important that you know you're not alone in this. You have Tom and Jerry who both love and support you fully, and now you've me and the rest of the community by your side too. You are _not_ alone. You have to remember that."

Alex stared at her. "I- I will. That's… good to hear."

"Can I see your phone? I'd like to give you my number. Just in case you ever want to talk. The others will probably offer too."

Alex handed over his phone in almost a daze. It seemed impossible that someone could be this… well… sweet.

"Here. Oh hey Mark!"

Mark Lowell slid into place beside Destinee with a bright smile and a glass of sparkling cider. "Hey y'all. How's it goin' over here in this corner?"

"It's good mate. Just letting Alex know that he's not alone and that we're all here for him."

"Absolutely!" Mark nodded enthusiastically. "You're part of the Queer community now, buddy, and that means we've got your back."

It was all so completely foreign to Alex. He'd been with these people for not even 15 minutes, and they were already welcoming him with open arms. And the thing was… it felt… nice? Alex hadn't thought that being around people like, well like _him_ , he guessed, would feel so _good,_ but it did. It felt comfortable, and calming, and Alex rarely felt comfortable and calm, so he was immediately driven right back around to being on edge.

His feelings of unease must have shown on his face, because Mark hastily continued. "Although obviously everything is pretty new to you and you don't really know us that well, so if you don't _want_ to talk to us or anythin', you don't _have_ to. Just, you know, the option's there."

"...Thanks. And, er, actually, I do have a question? For you. It might be a little awkward though…" He trailed off and flitted his eyes to Destinee who smiled at him and said, "I'll be over with Tom. Alex, sweetheart, it was lovely to meet you."

Mark waved her goodbye and turned back to Alex. "What's up little buddy?"

"Well, it's… I don't know, it may be a little inappropriate…?"

Mark observed him for a moment, before his eyes lit with understanding. "Oh. Jerry's told you that I'm asexual?"

"Yeah. And I do have some questions, but it seems kind of bad to ask you about your sex life?"

"Well I definitely get that, but that's why I'm here, bud, so-" He gestured broadly. "Ask away!"

"Oh. Well, I mean." He leaned closer and lowered his voice, somewhat embarrassed. "How can you, er, not get… aroused. Like, if you can't get aroused, doesn't that just mean that there's something biologically wrong with you?"

"Good question. And I have two replies to that. Number one being: I can get physically aroused." He held up his hands, as if to stave off an influx of questions. "I know what you're thinking- how can I be asexual if I get aroused, right?"

"Well… yes."

"It's a fair question. And it brings me to my second point: what makes someone ace- asexual- is the fact that they don't feel sexually attracted to anyone. Asexual people are still capable of masturbating, and feeling arousal- although many don't-, we just don't, like, feel these feelings for people. And obviously it's a spectrum and there are a lot of people in between but that's basically it."

"So but what if," Alex blurted, face bright red. "What if- uh- maybe I haven't ever been aroused by anything or- or anybody but maybe it's because there has been a lot going on and I haven't had _time_ to be aroused by stuff?"

This was _embarrassing._ Sure, his uncle had given him the Talk, but that had been when he was _six_. And it was very impersonal and clinical, and every sex talk after that had been just the same. He'd been gifted a lot of books too. _My Body is Changing and Here's Why_ and _Guide to Healthy Sex_ and _What is Happening to my Body?_ He'd learned a lot. But he hadn't learned any of _this_.

Mark appeared totally unfazed, and Alex wholeheartedly appreciated the casual, unashamed manner in which he answered.

"Well, I'd say that you have a lot of time to figure things out. Maybe you'll be aroused by things in the future, and that's okay. It's not abnormal to have stuff going on in your life that gets in the way of development. There are a lot of people in the world who, for instance, have been sexually abused, and they're not able to feel arousal for a very long time. Sometimes never."

Alex's face burned. He hadn't wanted Mark to think anything like _that_. "I haven't been sexually abused," he blurted, and Mark just shrugged cautiously.

"Okay. The fact remains, though. Sometimes things happen, and your life doesn't… well, it doesn't go quite as planned. You can still be asexual if it's because of trauma reasons, and the trauma sucks, obviously, but you're still a part of the community."

Alex nodded slowly, face still red. "Thanks Mark," he said quietly, and Mark smiled at him softly. _Understandingly._

"Buddy, life is just the worst sometimes. And it sucks, it really does. But, I'm just going to say it one more time, _you're not alone_. You can talk to any of us anytime you need to or want to- and sometimes talking to someone you're not as close to can be easier. Just… just please know that you're not going through this solo. There are a lot of people out there who have your back."

Alex nodded again because that was just about all he could do. He thought maybe he could feel his eyes prickling and he immediately forced down any and all feelings, because with _feelings_ came _problems_ and this was not the time nor the place to deal with them.

"Thanks Mark," he repeated instead, once again.

An hour and a half later, all of the guests had been ushered out of the room, and once again it was only Tom, Alex, and Jerry.

"Wow," Tom said. He was sprawled across the sofa, staring at the ceiling. "Like, I mean _wow_. They're all so- so-"

"Nice," Alex finished, and something in his tone must have been a little off, because both Harris brothers turned to look at him.

"Did you-" Jerry bit his lip, and Alex hurried to assure him.

"No, look, I learned a lot, okay? Thank you for giving me this opportunity, I- it was really informative and I think I needed to ask a lot of the questions I did."

"...But?"

Alex laughed helplessly and flopped back in his chair. "But this is all so _new_. And it doesn't seem like such a big deal to me, but apparently it is for everyone else, and they were all so _nice_ and _cool_ and being with them felt amazing and relaxing, but do I really deserve that? I didn't go through _any_ of the struggles any of them did- I just figured out I liked boys this last year, and I don't feel guilty about it! Or confused, or- or- ashamed, I just- I feel _fine_."

Jerry sighed gently and leaned across the table and placed a hand on Alex's knee. This was one of the things about the Harris brothers that simultaneously comforted him and put him on edge. The _touching_. They were so casual about it. They doled out hugs and touches like it was nothing, and Alex yearned for it all because _Christ_ nobody _touched_ him anymore. He didn't _have_ any family. He didn't have a single person in the world who _loved_ him, and everyday this knowledge burned a deep, aching hole in his chest.

But it was filled, just a little, by the Harris brothers. He didn't mean to be dramatic, but honestly, without them, he was pretty sure he'd be dead.

"Alex," Jerry said. "Being part of the Queer community isn't just about how much suffering you've had in your life. It's just that a lot of queer people _have_ had a lot of rough experiences and finally there are people who actually _understand_. That being said, it's also not just about that. It's about, you know, the joys of different types of love and self-expression and celebrating diversity."

"Maybe," Alex muttered.

"No maybe, definitely. And mate, it's absolutely _not_ a bad thing that you don't feel bad about being queer. I'm happy for you."

"So am I," Tom interjected.

"Right. And I'm sure everyone that was here today would feel like that too."

"But it's like- it's like I'm a fake. You know? Isn't it? I don't _belong_ with these people. We have nothing in common, we're nothing alike, I've just _infiltrated_ their group and they don't know and they're just being so nice to me and I don't _deserve_ it."

Tom and Jerry stared at him, eyes wide.

"Alex, that's not _true_ -" Tom said at the same time Jerry protested, "You deserve people being _very_ nice to you-"

They glanced at each other and Jerry subsided, letting Tom take the lead with a small gesture.

"Alex," Tom began again. "Look, you can't have 'infiltrated' their group or anything like that because, well, that's just not something you can _do,_ you know? Like, I mean? Did you lie about liking Day?"

"Obviously I did at the start, yes-"

"Shut up, you know that's not how I meant it. You like Day. You do. I know it. You know it. That means you belong. That's all there is to it. There's nothing else. Just being yourself is enough."

Alex let out a harsh breath and shrunk into himself a little. "That's _never_ enough."

"Well it is here. With this."

"Tom's right," Jerry said quietly. "There are no requirements other than that, Alex. No applications. Nothing to prove. Who you are is _enough._ You're _enough."_

The tears were building up behind his eyes again and he had to swallow down the bitter whine that was climbing his throat. "Sure," he said quietly. "Maybe."

The silence after that should have been awkward, what with the whole releasing his inner fears and doubts into the world thing, and with anyone else, it would have been. But with the Harris brothers, it merely teetered on the verge of mild discomfort.

Tom narrowed his eyes at his brother and gave an jerky head nod toward the kitchen. It would have been very obvious to Alex, if not for the fact that his eyes were glued to the carpet.

Jerry stood and stretched. "Whew!" He said loudly and not at all inconspicuously. "What a long day. I guess I'll make some dinner guys want anything special?"

"Pasta," Tom said immediately.

"Pasta it is." He shuffled off to the kitchen to cook, leaving Tom and Alex alone.

"So?" Tom asked, pulling himself up to a sitting position. "What else are you feeling?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you've got that blank look on your face that usually means you're thinking about something sad but you don't want anyone to know and you don't want to bring it up. So. What is it? If we're going to do this feelings thing, we might as well do it right."

"If I don't want anyone to know, why would I tell you?" Alex asked wryly, and Tom gave him a Look. They both knew that perhaps Jerry was included in the 'anybody' category, but Tom certainly wasn't. "I- ugh. Fine. It's just… maybe I don't feel badly about being- being _not-straight-"_

"Reuben said you can use queer as an umbrella term if you're not ready to put labels on anything yet," Tom broke in quietly, helpfully, and Alex blew out a breath.

"Fine. I don't feel badly about being _queer-"_ It was the first time saying the word, and it felt strange in his mouth. "-but I think that's just because, you know, there was so much else going on in my life, and, I don't know, it's just another thing that's been stolen from me."

"Even if it's a bad thing?"

"Well. Yeah. I mean, I know, obviously it's stupid-"

"It's not stupid," Tom interrupted. "It's perfectly normal and reasonable to feel robbed by what Blunt and Jones were doing to you. Now you don't even have normal memories like other people do, you just have memories of shitty child abuse."

"It wasn't _child abuse_ -" Alex protested, and Tom cut him off once more, this time with a calm, measured look.

"Alex. It was child abuse."

"I- fine. Maybe. But whatever it was, it _sucked_ and it's created a pit in my life where all the normal things are supposed to be, but they're _not_. I'm missing _so much_ , Tom. And I'm doing my best, but… I don't know, there's probably so much else in my life that's not there and I don't even know it because I don't even know enough to know what's missing. Do you get that?"

He'd kind of rambled it all out in a jumbled mess, but Tom's face was sympathetic and solemn and despite it all, he did understand. Of course he did. Tom had cottoned on to the fact that Alex wasn't quite _normal_ early on. He'd never made fun of him for not knowing the words to any of the popular songs, or knowing the plots to any of the children's movies _every_ child grew up watching. He'd instead just started playing the songs for him, and inviting him over for movie nights. The movie nights had stagnated a little after everything that had happened after Alex's uncle died, but… Tom hadn't _once_ given up on him.

Years later, when he was inarguably way more screwed up than he ever was before, Tom was still inviting him over to watch cartoons together.

He was a good friend. He was loyal and patient and funny and Alex was so thankful to have someone like him in his life.

"Look," Tom told him seriously, once more showcasing the mature side of himself that he didn't show many others. "I know that things are hard right now. I can't even pretend to understand the hurt you're still going through, because there's so much that's happened to you that should never have happened to a child. Should never have happened to _anyone_. But I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, and you're not alone in any of this. You've got me. And Jerry. And everyone who was here earlier, they all want to help you too. Whatever you need."

Alex clenched his fists.

"Thanks Tom," he managed to choke out.

Tom patted him gently on the shoulder and then said, awkwardly. "So…uh... what _do_ you need?"

Alex laughed wetly. "Right now? Let's just watch _Brave._ I've been looking forward to it all day."

"Hell yeah."

Tom rolled off the couch and went to start the movie. Alex was very greatly for the reprieve. He had a lot to think about.

They'd been watching for about thirty minutes when the text message came. Alex squinted down at his phone and immediately choked on his own spit.

"What? What is it?"

Alex stared. "It's. Um. From Day?" Oh God. He didn't think he could handle this. Not after the afternoon he'd just had.

There was a loud thud as Tom fell off the couch in an explosion of limbs.

"What? What? He texted you? What does it say? Alex?"

"He says, uh-" Alex cleared his throat. " _Hey, it's Day. Molly was looking particularly cute and I thought you might like to see :)"_

"Wait, who's Molly?"

"His dog." Alex showed him the screen.

"Oh! And she is pretty cute!"

"Yeah." He stared down at the picture and felt his face grow warm. "That was nice of him." He put his phone away and Tom gaped at him.

"Alex, _what_ are you doing?"

"Uh-?"

"Are you seriously about to tell me right now that you're not going to text him back?"

"Do I have to?"

"Well, I mean no, but don't you want to?"

"Well, I- yeah, I _do,_ but he just sent me a picture, what would I say?"

"Same thing you said to me- that you think his dog is cute. And maybe you also think he's cute." Tom waggled his eyebrows and Alex made a face.

"I am _not_ saying that. But…" He picked up his phone and typed up a text. "How about this: _She is very cute! Thanks for the picture."_

"Smiley face?"

"Is that a bit much?"

" _No."_

"I think it's a bit much," Alex said and hit send.

"Oh my God," Tom groaned. "You are just the _worst_ at flirting."

"This isn't flirting! He literally just sent me a picture of his dog."

"Well it's not flirting _now_ , but it could have been! Alex, you need to take some _initiative."_

"Come on, we've talked about this, I don't think that we can-"

His phone buzzed.

"Uh." Alex stared. "He… texted me again."

"And?"

"He said, _Thanks! How was Brave?"_

" _Mate._ Oh my god. He is actually putting effort into this- someone has to, I guess. This is a second chance! Quick, hand me your phone."

Alex clutched his phone to his chest. "What? No! I can talk to Day perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much!"

"Obviously not," Tom wiggled his fingers. "Come on, give it here. Show a little trust, why don't you?"

Alex bit his lip and squinted, apprehensive. "What are you going to say?"

Tom just made the _gimme gimme_ gesture again, waiting.

"Ugh! Fine. Whatever. But I get to give you the all clear before you send."

"Duh." He swiped the phone from Alex's hands and started texting, parroting out loud as he did. " _Brave is great so far, but we're not finished yet! :)"_

"Exclamation mark _and_ smiley face?" Alex grumbled under his breath. "Please just pick one or the other at least, god."

Tom made a face but changed the exclamation mark to a period. "Good?"

"I guess…"

"Good! And now for the next bit…" He squished in next to Alex and held the phone up in front of them. "Say cheese!"

"Tom _no_ , this is not something we agreed on-!"

"Well I'm not giving up until you smile, so say cheeese!"

Tom tapped the capture button. He brought the phone back and looked at the screen. "Oh, _perfect_."

Alex took a look. It was awful. He was scrunched up against the couch arm, his face flushed, a grimace painted across his face. Tom had a bright smile and his eyes crossed.

Tom hit the send button.

"Wait, no!" He yelped, swiping his phone back whip-fast. "Tom! Are you serious? I looked so- so-"

"Adorable! Sure, a little bit pained- like maybe you're trying to hide a broken rib or something- but hey, true to life, right?"

"My ribs aren't broken, just bruised, you prat."

"Whatever. Still cute. Now he has something to look at when he's thinking about you."

Alex bit his lip. He really didn't want to like Day. He really didn't. It was a crush doomed to failure, a luxury he didn't even _deserve._ He was glad that Tom was supporting him, but it was- it was just so…. so…..

 _Pointless_.

It was _pointless._ Day would never like him back, not like _that_ , and if he did it didn't even _matter_. Alex was too damaged to even be considering something like a relationship, even if by some crazy miracle both parties were willing-

"Alex," Tom said. "Come on. This right here? It's not a big deal. You guys are just talking, it's perfectly natural and normal, and if he doesn't want to talk to you, he can very easily not. Don't worry about it so much."

His phone buzzed.

Tom beamed. "But obviously he does! So? What does it say?"

Alex stared down at it, face steadily flushing bright red. His heart gave an odd lurch. "Um. It… doesn't say anything. It's a picture." He flashed the phone to Tom whose mouth popped open into an 'o'.

"Oh, _nice!"_

It was Day, face pressed up against his dog's cheek, grinning crookedly the camera. His dark hair was wet, falling in a disarray over his forehead and in his eyes. It looked like he'd just gotten out of the shower.

Alex had to agree. It really was rather nice.

At that moment, as if summoned by magic (but more likely by the power of eavesdropping), Jerry popped around the corner balancing two bowls in his arms. "Hey not to be nosy or anything, but can I, uh, see that picture?" He set the bowls down on the coffee table. "In exchange for some spaghetti, of course."

Why not? He handed the phone off to the older Harris brother, who looked at it silently for a moment, scrutinizing the picture carefully. "Okay," he said finally, handing it back to Alex. "Okay... Huh. Carry on."

He exchanged a loaded glance with Tom, one that Alex, to his utmost frustration, didn't understand; but Tom must have, because he practically _beamed_ back at his brother.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyway, we have any parmesan cheese?"

"Tom-"

"It's in the kitchen." Jerry interrupted. "You can get it when you get your drinks. I'm going to my room, Abdul, Ad'ifaah, and I are planning a rock-climbing trip for this weekend. I'll see you kids later."

He waved over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the living room.

Alex narrowed his eyes at his friend. Obviously whatever had passed between the two brothers was going to remain private. Okay. Fine.

Tom hopped down to his feet and smiled innocently down at him. "Coming, sweetie pie?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're a nightmare."

Two hours later the movie was over and Alex was headed home. Him and Day had texted casually all throughout the movie- or rather, him and Day and _Tom_ had texted casually, because Tom had absolutely insisted on being involved in the conversation, even though it had remained firmly stationed on Day's dog Molly and nothing else. Tom thought he was a coward for not asking for any pictures other than Molly- Alex didn't have it in him to disagree because he honestly thought that he might be right.

It was just getting dark when Alex cracked his front door open and slipped inside. The light was on in the kitchen and he tread softly to the doorway and looked in. Alil was slumped over the table, head pillowed in his arms, asleep. He was breathing heavily but evenly, and Alex stood and watched him for a long moment. In his sleep, Alex could tell that Alil was absolutely exhausted. He had deep, dark, bags under his eyes, and creases lined his forehead. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday.

Alex sighed quietly and shut off the light, and then went upstairs and got ready for bed. When he was finished brushing his teeth, he slid under the covers and placed his head on his pillow, mind still racing. He lay like that for 30 minutes and then, before he could stop himself, he reached out and clicked on his phone. It took only a few swipes to find the picture of Day, and he stared at it for a good long moment. And then he clicked off his phone, turned his back, and closed his eyes.

* * *

 _A/N: Well, here's chapter 4! Just want to say that I don't have any plans to abandon this story, even if it takes me literal years to finish (which apparently it might lol)! Things were really rough for me this past year, but this summer has been great to me. Hope to get more writing done! :)_

 _Next chapter we'll see more of Alex's 'nosy classmates', which I'm excited to write. :)_


	5. Chapter 5

Alex jolted out of sleep to the front door slamming shut, and he held himself still, keeping his breathing deep and even. If anyone were to peek through his window, he would seem to still be asleep, calm and unaware- but his heart was beating a mile a minute, and he thought that perhaps he could hear his blood vibrating in his veins. After a long moment of silence, he cracked his eyes open a sliver and peeked out from under his lashes.

His room was empty. Sunlight was just spreading through the slats of his blinds, spilling across his floor in horizontal patterns.

 _It was probably just Alil_ , he told himself.

He forced himself to pry his eyes open further, sucked in a deep lungful of air, and stood up.

When he shuffled downstairs, he found the living room empty. So was the kitchen.

Alil was gone. He'd left the house. This put him immediately on edge, because _Alil didn't leave._ In fact, in all the time he'd been living with Alex, Alex could count on his hands the number of times Alil had gone out.

He couldn't help the bubble of worry that rose in his chest. What had happened? Was he okay? Why the hell had he _left the house?_ He didn't even buy his own groceries, what could he have possibly wanted that he needed to _leave?_

And Alil was a bit of a jackass, so of course he hadn't thought to leave a _note_ or anything. Of course.

He stood in the hallway for a minute, gnawing on his lip, eyes darting between the kitchen and the living room, shoulders hunched.

They'd built up a routine. Why was Alil so set on ruining it these days? Why couldn't he just let things be?

 _Damn_ it.

He went back upstairs and opened the cabinet in his bathroom, and mechanically removed the wrappings on his hand. He made sure to smear pain relieving cream on as many bruises as he could reach, and then, because he couldn't stand the thought of staying in the silent house for any longer than he needed to, he got dressed and walked to school, despite the early hour.

The walk did him well. It was just about 6:30 and the air was brisk, the sky overcast. He took in a deep breath, face pointed toward the cresting sun. It was going to rain. He loved weather like this.

A few years ago, these would have been perfect running conditions to him. He would have gotten up before school and pounded out a few miles, no music, just the chill of the air and the throbbing of his feet against the pavement. He'd been trying to get back in the habit, but recently, just the thought of so much running exhausted him. He was doing his best to get back into weight-training in the home-gym Ian had installed in the basement, but even that was pushing it. Recently _everything_ was exhausting him.

He walked to school, and the sting of the wind in his face told him he was alive.

When he got to Brookland Comprehensive, he meandered around the pavilion in the front for a few moments, thoughts tumbling listlessly around his mind like water in a stagnant stream.

A shock of bright magenta caught his attention.

It was Martinique.

She was sitting on a stone bench, head bent over a textbook. Every few moments she'd give a little twitch and her arm would rise and she'd highlight something on the page. He watched her for a moment, entranced by the simplicity of the actions.

Her face raised suddenly, as if she'd sensed his gaze, and her dark eyes zeroed in on him like a heat seeking missile. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Alex decided _to hell with it_ and walked over.

"Martinique."

"Alex."

She inclined her head slightly at the space next to her and he carefully lowered himself down onto the bench.

"You're here early."

"I'm always here early. I like the quiet."

Alex thought that perhaps that was a bit of a reproach, but, well, she _had_ invited him to sit, so he processed the thought and then let it slip away into the reeds.

The book she was holding was one he recognized as belonging to the advanced biology class. Alex wasn't in it, but he thought he might like to give it a try next year. He gave a nod to the book. "How's Mrs. Bertram's class?"

"She's a good teacher. She knows what she's talking about but she isn't condescending."

Alex nodded at that and then the two of them fell into somewhat awkward silence. He stared off into the distance vaguely, unconsciously pressing minute pressure onto the knuckles of his left hand with the palm of his right. Sometimes he felt like his body wasn't in enough pain- it was a thought that popped up every once in a while, usually in the dark of the night, and it always left him feeling vaguely dirty and ashamed. It was just that… well... he'd lived for a long time never feeling comfortable. Never feeling _safe._ He'd had so many aches and burning pains and for more than a year his body had just been a vessel for injury. It had seemed like that was all he was on earth for, just pain and blood and dirt in open wounds. Sometimes, even now, it was hard to shake the feeling that something was _wrong_ when he laid down at night and his body didn't hurt.

Fortunately- or perhaps Tom would say unfortunately- he was in a healthy dose of pain at the moment. His ribs were aching, his shoulder twinged, and the tendons in his hand were still swelling against his skin. Things were normal. He was alright.

Martinique put down her highlighter abruptly, interrupting his thoughts."Why'd you do it?" She asked, and he pulled himself back into the present.

"Do what?"

"You know what." She scowled down at his hand. " _That._ It's been a while. I want to know what happened."

He held himself perfectly still. "I'm not sure what exactly you're trying to say."

Except he did. Of course he did. Because him and Martinique didn't know each other, not really. They weren't friends. Hardly acquaintances. But Martinique was _so damn observant._ She _noticed_ things, she was too smart for her own good, and she was apparently bolder than he had anticipated.

Martinique huffed. "I've been at this school longer than you have, Alex. I was there when John Ryan mysteriously transferred schools and Ethan Swanson showed up to school with a heavy limp. And I _know_ how you and Tom became friends."

John Ryan and Ethan Swanson. Alex had almost forgotten about them. Aaron Black should have been included in that list, now that he thought about it, but apparently he'd been lost to time.

When he'd first showed up to Brookland Comprehensive, he'd been much younger and he'd looked much softer. People had thought they could take advantage of his pre-supposed weakness- Alex had quickly proven them very wrong.

To his dismay, although he was older, he still looked a little softer than he'd like, but he'd built up enough of a reputation that he was left well enough alone.

"And I know you burned down the science wing a few years ago."

His eyes shot to her abruptly. "I didn't do that."

Her eyebrows raised. "Yeah? Then how come the caretaker Bernarnd Lee quoted in his police interview that he saw you heading inside just before the fire broke out?"

Alex stared at her, stunned. How could she _possibly_ know that?

She must have seen the question on his face because she snorted and said, "My dad's a cop."

"Of _course_ he is." He sighed heavily, and firmed himself to keep his shoulders from drooping because today was going just _great_. "Look, Martinique, I didn't set fire to the science department- it was old and in need of repair, and if your father really is a police officer then you should also know that the investigation ruled out arson."

"And how would you know that?"

He met her eyes and enunciated clearly, "People like to gossip."

She flushed, the colour only faintly visible beneath her dark skin. "Behind most gossip is a kernel of truth."

"Sometimes. Sometimes not. I mean, is it true that you murdered your ex-boyfriend? What was his name, Jensen? Killed him and buried his corpse in your backyard?"

A flash of hurt flew across her face so quickly Alex could almost believe he'd imagined it, and then her eyes hardened and her jaw clenched in irritation. "Nobody really believes that happened."

"Some people do. And I think you know that. Kind of hurts, doesn't it? That people would believe you're that kind of person. That you'd do something like that."

Because Martinique was very intelligent and very talented, but she was also an irregularity- she wasn't quite normal, and that made her an obvious target for the in-groups and their whispers. Much like Alex, she didn't quite fit in.

Her jaw tightened even further and they sat in silence again. And then Martinique let out a slow steady stream of breath and said, "Jensen moved. His parents got an abrupt and awful divorce and he went with his mom to Glasgow. He didn't tell any of his friends what happened because he was clinically depressed and ashamed about his parents' behaviour. That's the truth of it."

She looked at him challengingly.

He wanted to scowl. She'd backed him into a corner. He obviously couldn't tell her about what really went down the evening the science wing caught alight because there was no way to explain fucking _Julius Grief_ , and also, just thinking about Julius set his blood to boil with such bitterness and rage that he hadn't felt in a long long time. So. Best to avoid that.

So instead he said, "I hurt Len and Robert and Andre because they were pushing around a friend of mine. I went into the locker room the day before yesterday and I told them nicely that they needed to stop. They didn't. So I punched Len in the face and that started things. They hurt me, I hurt them, and in the end, I finished things and now they'll leave my friend alone. _That_ is the truth of that."

She watched his face like a hawk, eyes looking for any sign of deceit, and when she didn't find any, she conceded. "You beat them up because they were messing with your friend?"

He shrugged non-committedly.

"And the science wing?"

"I told you I didn't burn it down, but I don't have anything to prove to you. I don't think I need to provide any excuses or explanations. It wasn't me. That's all there is, isn't it?"

He could easily make up an excuse, all things considered, but, well… What he'd told Martinique had been the truth. He didn't _owe_ her an excuse. He didn't owe her anything.

She nodded slowly. "Alright. I can accept that."

"Why do you care so much?"

"I don't. I'm just… curious."

And unfortunately, Alex could understand that too. Brookland wasn't a bad school, but it was… boring. Ordinary. Nothing really seemed to happen there- discounting the shooting two years ago, if only because that wasn't a _Brookland_ issue, it was an A _lex_ issue. And Alex could recognize in Martinique a familiar restlessness. A hunger for _more_. His curiosity manifested in jumping out of 14th floor windows and breaking into locked research compounds, hers seemed to display in learning as much as physically possible, whether it be classes or clubs or extracurriculars, and interrogating suspected arsonists.

He could sympathize. He could also back the hell off immediately because if anyone could weasel their way into his secrets, it was probably Martinique.

"Well, you have the right to your curiosity, but I'd appreciate if you left me out of it in the future."

"If you can keep yourself from doing suspicious things, then maybe we have a deal."

They eyed each other warily for a moment, and then Alex got up and Martinique picked back up her highlighter.

"Martinique."

"Alex."

He shuffled off, feeling more unnerved than he had in quite some time. The school was still pretty empty and he had a healthy amount of time left before the late bell rang, so he found his way to the library. The library had always been something of a sanctuary for him at Brookland, and he thought that the quiet would be appreciated right about then.

When he got to the library he slipped inside, nodding to Mrs. Benson, the woman at the front desk.

He scanned the tables at the front for a place to sit, and his eyes caught immediately on a familiar head of darkly dyed hair. Day was sitting next to a vaguely familiar blonde, chairs scooted within inches of each other. They were bent over a large book, laughing quietly to themselves.

It took a moment for him to remember, but then the name of the blonde clicked into place. It was Kelly Pierce. Day's ex-girlfriend.

 _Oh._

Chest tight, he stood for a moment, trying to decide whether he would just turn around and leave, like he wanted to... Jesus, he was such a fucking coward. He was trying to get over that. And who cared anyway? Honestly, who _cared_ whether Day was still close to his ex? Not Alex. Day could talk to whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and it wasn't Alex's _business._ He didn't have any sort of right to feel uncomfortable or jealous, or _whatever_ this feeling hanging deep in his heart was.

He swallowed and started past them. He had only taken a few steps when Kelly looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened and she stopped laughing abruptly.

"Alex!" She blurted, and Day's head shot up as well, eyes wide.

Alex, face carefully controlled into his regular mask of neutrality, nodded to both of them. Although to his self-loathing, he couldn't quite bring himself to look directly at Day.

"Good morning," he said and kept moving, not leaving any room for a response.

He burrowed his way deep into the book shelves, finding his way to the tables at the very back. They were blessedly empty, and he dropped himself into a chair with an almost painful sigh.

He was exhausted.

He hesitated briefly and then folded his arms across the table and carefully lowered his head onto his forearm. His cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his jacket and he let out another slow exhalation of breath.

The sudden urge to go home and lay down in bed swept over him like a tidal wave. God, he was always so _tired_ these days.

He remembered, with a sudden burst of nostalgia, being young and watching TV on the couch, getting so exhausted that he would fall asleep right there on the sofa. He'd wake up to light shakes and a quiet voice whispering " _Alex kiddo, you need to get up. You need to go to bed."_

He would open his eyes blearily and Ian would be _there_ , smiling over at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

He loved him so much. He _missed_ him so much. Despite his absences and the bad choices he'd made and all the hurt he'd caused Alex, it couldn't be denied that Ian had tried his best. He'd been unprepared for a child and he hadn't ever _wanted_ kids, but he'd taken Alex in and he'd _tried his best_.

Not for the first time, he wished that Ian were still alive. He'd been a quiet man, preferring the company of books and magazines to talking, but when Alex needed advice, he always knew just what to say.

But, Alex wondered, what would Ian think about this particular problem?

Ian had never seemed to have any problems with gay people. In fact, he'd gone so far as to explain to Alex that homophobia was irrational and lacking in any form of empathy.

But it was always different when it was your own kid, wasn't it?

Would he have been disappointed? That Alex wasn't who Ian had thought he would be? Would he have been scared? The world was so much harder for gay people. So so much harder.

And frankly, God, what would _Jack_ have thought? He had loved her too. She had been so much like a sister to him. She had laughed at all his jokes, even if they were terrible. She'd tucked him in more often than Ian had, and had come to more parent-teacher meetings too.

But she had never talked about gay people. Alex had no idea what her opinions were of the LGBTQ community.

Would it be too much for her? What would have happened if he had sat down and told her that he had a crush on a boy?

She would have accepted him, Alex told himself reasonably. If she had stuck with him through all the horrors of Blunt and Jones, he couldn't imagine she would turn her back on him for something like _this._

But he would never know, now. Not for certain.

With a sinking heart, he realized that he would have to live the rest of his life wondering whether his dead loved ones would have _remained_ loved ones. Jesus.

Perhaps there was more to Destinee's warnings about depressing thoughts than he'd previously considered.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps and he raised his head off his arms to see Day approaching, a cautious look on his face.

"Alex?"

Alex blinked up at him. "Day."

"Hey mate. Um. Can I sit with you for a bit?"

"...Sure."

Day took the seat adjacent to him quietly and stared at him in silence, biting his lip. He absentmindedly tapped one of his stupid long fingers against the tabletop and it took everything in Alex not to stare.

He thought that the general atmosphere was definitely awkward. Definitely. Well, maybe. So honestly, Alex always felt a little awkward around Day, but this time he thought that perhaps it wasn't just him. He asked indifferently, "Kelly leave?"

"Yeah. You know her then? Kelly, I mean?"

"Not really. We had maths together two years ago, I think, but that's it."

"Oh. Well… so you might know that we dated? Last year?"

Alex felt that twinge in his chest again and he shrugged noncommittally "I heard that, yes."

"Right." Day was staring at him, an indecipherable expression on his face. "Well then. You probably also heard that we broke up."

Alex nodded. "I'm sorry."

Day tilted a corner of his lips up, not looking too upset. "It was for the best. We're much better as friends."

Alex nodded again, wondering why Day was telling him this.

But Day seemed to be satisfied that they had reached some sort of conclusion on the subject, because he smiled and said, "Well, anyway, good to see you! What are you doing here so early? You don't usually get to school until later."

He was taken a bit aback by Day's casual certainty, but he just shrugged. "Just… needed to get out of the house. You know?"

"Honestly, yeah. I have two younger sisters and I love them both to death, but sometimes they can drive me absolutely _insane."_

"Yeah? How old are they?"

"Robin is 9, Sierra is 3."

"That's a lot of youth under one roof."

"Tell me about it. What about you? You have siblings?"

"No. It's just me."

"Hmm. So parent problems?"

Alex shifted uncomfortably, looking away. _Oh._ Right. It wasn't exactly common knowledge that Alex was an orphan, but most people close enough to him to ask about his home life _knew_ that he lived with his uncle. Or _had_ lived with his uncle. Or- damn it. They knew not to ask about his parents, at least.

"... Something like that."

He glanced back at Day, only to find the other boy staring, wide-eyed down at Alex's hands. He'd unconsciously clenched them at the mention of his parents, which only highlighted the ugly bruising and raw redness of his knuckles. Oh. He'd forgotten to rewrap his hands. He forced himself to relax, cheeks flushing, and Day jerked his head up.

"I-" he cleared his throat. "Sorry, I-" His eyes darted down again and Alex grew redder.

" _Day-"_

"It's just, that looks way worse today," he blurted. "Like, really bad. Have you seen a doctor?"

Alex's jaw tightened. "I don't need to see a doctor."

"Are you sure?"

" _Yes._ Nothing's broken. Nothing's even sprained. It's just swelling, and the first few days are always the worst."

And now Day was staring at _him_ and he got the sudden and intimate impression that he'd said something wrong.

"Alex…"

"Look, seriously, I'm fine, okay? It hurts a _bit_ right now, I admit that, but that's just because I forgot to treat it this morning. I'll do it when I get back home and it'll be okay."

Day hesitated for a very long moment, and then let tumble out, "Can I wrap it for you?"

Alex's brows shot up and for the first time it was Day's turn to blush. "I mean, not at your _house,_ but like, I just-" He groaned and raked a hand through his dark hair. "Hold on."

He bent down and rummaged through his backpack, which had been shoved under the table. He emerged, to Alex's disbelief, with a bright red first aid kit.

"Um-?"

"My mom used to be a nurse," Day admitted, face still red. He set the kit on the table and popped it open. "She's also kind of paranoid."

"...Huh."

"Yeah. So. Can I..?" He gestured at Alex's hand, holding a tube of Bengay, and Alex considered him for a long moment.

"Okay," he said finally. "But I do the cream, you do the bandages, and we never mention it again."

"...Okay." Day unscrewed the tube's cap, as if Alex wasn't capable of it or something, and handed it over.

There was silence as Alex squeezed the cream across his knuckles and began to slowly massage it in, holding in a wince because hadn't he _just_ said it wasn't so bad? However he couldn't help the flinch that came when he accidently pressed his arm against the side of his table right over one of his worst bruises, and all of a sudden Day was leaning across the table, eyes wide, breath warm against his face.

"Alex? You good? Was that your hand?"

"No, I-" he blinked rapidly, leaning back to put some space between them so he could think. "It…" And then he sighed. "Hold on." He shrugged out of his jacket carefully, leaving him in just his long sleeve shirt and then he gingerly rolled his left sleeve up about a quarter of his arm.

" _Alex,"_ Day breathed, and Alex twisted his lips. Yeah. It looked kind of bad.

His arm was covered in bruises. Well honestly, just three of them and a weird slash, but one of them was pretty big and mottled and on top of that- or rather, under that- he had a few pretty awful scars that stretched white and aged over his skin.

Ignoring Day, he smeared cream over the biggest of the bruises and lightly swiped it in with small, gentle movements.

Day cleared his throat. "So. Can I ask-?"

"Car door," Alex answered, meeting Day's eyes challengingly. The other boy nodded slowly, eyes flitting back down to the clearly hand-shaped bruise just under Alex's wrist.

"Right."

But he didn't say anything else to that and that was all Alex had hoped for. He held out his hand silently, and Day tore open a roll of bandages-

and then carefully pulled Alex's hand toward him.

His fingers were long and thin and felt impossibly warm against the underside of Alex's wrist. He turned Alex's hand over gently so that it was palm up, and looked curiously at it. "Oh. You have calluses."

"Yes, I-"

But then Day lightly swiped his thumb across his calluses and and the rest of his words got swept away in a rush of heat.

"Nnh." Alex said, eyes wide.

Day looked up at him from under his eyelashes. "Did that hurt?"

"N-No, it-" He was sure his face was bright red. "It just startled me."

Day's lips quirked but to Alex's eternal relief and disappointment, he didn't repeat the action. Instead he pressed one end of the bandages against the middle of Alex's palm and began to wind it around his hand, motions smooth and practiced.

"So do you-? I mean, you must work out."

Normally it would make Alex very pleased to hear that someone looked at him and assumed he worked out, but he knew that Day was just fishing.

He sighed. "Yeah. But… but I'm a black belt in karate and I think that's really the answer you're looking for. Isn't it."

A pause, then, "It is." Day continued to wrap his hand. A few more moments and he had finished and produced a roll of tape from his handy dandy emergency kit.

"There you go," he smoothed a piece of tape over the bandage and let Alex's hand go. "Should hold you to the end of the day."

Alex flexed his hand. Day had done a professional job. "Thanks."

"Any time. Ideally, you should reapply the pain-relieving cream two or three times throughout the day. Maybe during lunch?"

"I think I'll probably just wait until I get back home."

"Are you…? I mean, are you sure? I could help with the rewrapping, if you want."

"Do we even have the same lunch period?"

"We do," Day said easily. "I just sit on the other side of the cafeteria with my friends while you and Tom sit nearer to the back entrance."

"...You know where I sit in the cafeteria?"

"Sure I do. So if you want, we could meet up during lunch and I could help you with the bandages?"

Alex flexed his hand again. In merely an hour it would be throbbing. He considered, then, "Okay. Do you want to meet in Mrs. Martin's classroom? She'll be having her lunch then too, so it should be empty."

"Sounds like a plan."

Day stowed away his emergency kit and then leaned back in his chair. "You know… I don't mind patching you up."

Alex raised a brow.

"I'm just saying… It's not a problem. You're a good patient."

"You're not too bad yourself, doc."

Day grinned. "Thanks. But I'm serious- you're no trouble, Alex. If you ever need any help bandaging yourself up, outside of school too, I mean, you have my number."

"Yeah…"

" _Seriously._ I mean it, okay? You're- I mean, I've already told you this, but- I like you, you know? You're a good guy."

Alex opened up his mouth, but his words, whatever they were going to be, caught in his throat. He didn't know quite how to explain to Day the absolute falsity of that statement. A _good guy_. God. Day had no idea what he was talking about.

"You really don't know anything about me," Alex said finally. "I'm not exactly sure you have the authority to make that assessment."

"So tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me about you. We've got some time before class begins. I know you love _Harry Potter_ and your favourite movie is _Raiders of the Lost Ark_. I know your favourite ice cream flavour is chocolate and you think that custard is absolutely foul. Tell me more."

Alex stared at him, eyes wide. He couldn't believe that Day remembered those things. It had come out that evening they had walked together after class, and yeah okay, _Alex_ remembered that Day's favourite movie was _Pacific Rim_ and he loved the _Game of Thrones_ series and he'd give his life for a strawberry waffle cone, but Alex had a _crush_ on Day, and he'd been trained since birth to retain even slips of information.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, dazed.

"What do your parents do?"

And okay yeah, he'd walked right into that one. Day had already proven five times over that he was a little too observant, too _curious_ for his own good. He sighed.

Emotional vulnerability was something that had been forcibly bled from his body, siphoned away into a dark chasm of space, never to be touched again. He'd hollowed, over the years, into something of numbness and emptiness, and after Jack's death, he'd thought he'd stay that way for good- just some lifeless, soulless _thing_ , drifting through life.

And then Tom had _sauntered_ into that dark chasm and _returned_ with good humour and a soft story for Alex about how much he'd missed him, and everything had changed. Not at once. Not right away. But slowly, gradually, throughout the months, Alex was finding out how to become a person again- and he owed it to Tom to keep fucking _trying._ He just hoped Day wouldn't think he was some sort of freak.

"My parents died when I was younger. I'm currently being fostered." It was the best way to explain his situation.

Day sucked in a sharp inhale of breath and stared at him, wide-eyed. " _Oh."_

"It's okay," he cut in, before Day started with the platitudes. "It was a long time ago."

And it _was_ okay. His parents' deaths really weren't the ones he was stressed about.

"Okay," Day sounded hesitant, and his eyes were still wide and cautious, liked he'd stumbled upon some dangerous animal. "Can I, um, can I ask about the whole situation? Or is that something you'd prefer not to talk about?"

"It's… I don't necessarily _mind_ talking about it, but it's… it's kind of a complicated situation so maybe we can save it for another time?"

Day agreed easily, "Of course. Whatever you want."

"What about you?" He asked, desperate to move on. "You said you lived with your mum?"

"Yeah. My parents divorced when I was 7. I live with my mother but I spend summers with my dad."

"... When you were 7? So, um, did your mother remarry?" He cocked his head. "You said your youngest sister was three."

Day's brows raised. He looked somewhat impressed. "Didn't expect you to catch that one. Sierra is actually adopted."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's technically my cousin. My aunt died in childbirth so we took Sierra in. My mum adopted her immediately and… yeah. Another sister."

"Oh wow. Plus the dog- full house."

"And the gerbil."

"Gerbil?"

"It's Robin's," Day groaned, leaned back in his chair dramatically. "Thing's a _nightmare,_ I'm serious. Makes these weird squeaking noises _all night long_ and Robin can't hear them but they keep me up more nights than not."

His lips quirked at the thought of Day laying in bed, pillow over his head, groaning at the ceiling.

"That sounds like a trial."

"You have no idea. You'll see when you come over this Friday."

And oh. Oh yeah. Their literature group was meeting at Day's house in two days.

"I'm excited to meet your dog. I've always wanted a pet but, I've uh… never had the opportunity."

Day absorbed that with a nod, no doubt assuming he meant due to being in foster care. But it was really due to the fact that he and Ian traveled just too much, and when they finally settled down a bit more permanently, Ian was gone so often, it would have been unfair to saddle a temporary babysitter with the upkeep of an animal as well as a child.

"Well, if you want to come over a little earlier than everyone else, we can spend some time playing with her? We can walk her to the park. If you want."

Alex couldn't help the delighted smile that stole over his face. "I would _love_ that!"

Day beamed back. "Great! I'll text everyone the address this evening. You could come like an hour early?"

"That sounds awesome. But do you need to ask your mother…?"

"Nah. She's always happy to have my friends over."

And a small fist of warmth blossomed in his chest like a flower because Day had just called him a _friend._

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. In fact-" He paused to flick Alex an assessing look, and then continued casually. "In fact, just last Saturday I had Kelly over to hang out and my mum was just pleased to have someone in the house who appreciated her apple crumb cake."

Oh. The flower in his chest wilted somewhat.

"Most people find it a bit difficult to remain close with their exes." He was proud that he managed to have it come out more as a curious statement of indifference, rather than the burning curiosity it truly was.

"Yeah, it was hard at first- but Kelly has a new boyfriend now. Andrew Nelson. Brown hair, very blue eyes. They're rather besotted with each other. _Very_ close," he stressed.

"So you've both- er- moved on then. Or- I mean, have _you?"_

"I have," Day asserted clearly. "Which is why we've remained such good friends."

"Makes sense, I suppose."

Day drummed his fingers across the table and then asked very casually, "So what about you then? I heard Amanda Delacroix asked you out last month, but you turned her down."

"She's a very nice girl," he allowed. "But I really didn't like her like that."

"Yeah? Any particular reason why?"

"Not really, just… didn't think we'd match up. We're very different people."

Day absorbed that with a nod, "And has there been anyone else? In your life romantically, I mean. Like a girlfriend? Or a- um-" he faltered. "Or like anyone else…?" He trailed off and Alex pinned him with a sharp look.

So that had _definitely_ been an awkward question. Day was sitting there nonchalantly but his fingers were tapping a staccato rhythm against the tabletop and was he-? Yes- he was chewing on the inside of his lip.

 _Huh._

"Well," he said slowly, giving himself time to think. "I was… _close…_ with a friend of mine a few years ago. Sabina. And, we didn't date or anything, but, you know, it may have been heading there." He hesitated, and Day gave him a curious look.

"But…?"

He sighed. "But my living situation was even more complicated back then, and things _happened_ and her family took me in to live with them."

"Well damn," Day winced. "Awkward."

"Extremely. For a few months she was like my adopted sister, and if things had continued it would have been so so weird."

"I can see why that might be a relationship deterrent. But-" he hesitated and then pressed on, "But now that you're not living with her, do you think you guys will try again?"

And Day still had that restrained neutrality plastered across his face like paper mache, but… his fingers were tapping again.

He swallowed. Once upon a time, he had thought that he could read people. That he could scan a person's body language and understand in it more analysis than most would. But that had been before his own godfather had tried to murder him. Before the adults in his life had _lied_ to him, about his parents, and his safety, and it had been _long_ before he'd learned that there was very little about himself that he could trust.

He took a deep breath. He couldn't trust in himself. But he was willing to put his faith in Tom.

"No. I don't think so. Sabina's a great friend and all, but there's a lot of loaded history there. And-" he pressed a thumb against the first knuckle on his hand and ground it in. "-and I'm not so sure how I feel about girls anymore."

Day's fingers stilled.

"Oh?" He asked, careful neutrality still in place. The air around them felt charged.

"Mm. I've recently realized maybe I should be focusing my attention… elsewhere."

In the silence that followed he realized that his heart was pounding wildly in his chest and his palms were sweaty.

"Alex," Day said softly, eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn't quite place. It looked suspiciously like satisfaction. "Are you saying you think you might like boys?"

"Well. I'm pretty sure, actually."

He attempted a smile at his companion, who ran his tongue over his bottom lip and stared back, that glint in his eyes burning brighter.

"Interesting," Day said quietly, almost to himself, and then, louder, before Alex could comment. "You know, it's totally cool that you like guys. Definitely no judgement from me."

It was only when he relaxed that he realized how tense he'd been. He let out low exhale. He hadn't actually thought that Day would give him any problems, but it surprised him how anxious he'd been to tell him."Yeah?" He bit his lip and then, thinking about Tom's first response, ventured, "Are you surprised?"

Day tilted his head and looked at him, obviously thinking that question over. "Not so much," he said finally, and Alex glowered.

"Tom wasn't surprised either."

It kind of stung. Hiding things was literally his entire life now, and all around him people were guessing his secrets.

"Tom seems like the type of person to be surprised by very little."

That was honestly an understatement

Day smiled at him for a moment, and then as Alex watched, the expression on his face intensified, and his smile dropped into a softer quirk of the lips.

"Alex," he began, "thank you for trusting me with this, and I want to let you know that I'll keep it close to my chest. If you want. I know people can be arseholes about this kind of thing sometimes. In fact, I want to tell you that I actually-"

He was interrupted by a scurry of footsteps and a moment later a blond head popped around a bookshelf.

"Hey," said Dima hopefully. "Is this a good time?"

Alex stared at him, thrown off-kilter by his sudden appearance, before recovering himself and waving a hand at the empty chair across from him. "Sure, you want to sit down? This is Day. Day, this is Dima, Kelli's younger brother. Er- and I mean Kelli with an 'i', not, uh, your Kelly. Obviously."

"Obviously." Day watched Dima carefully as the younger boy flopped down into the chair and beamed at them both. "Nice to meet you, Dima."

And then he flashed Dima his very white teeth, and Dima promptly turned bright red.

"O-oh, it's n-nice to meet you too." His beaming smile turned bashful.

Alex's brows shot up. _Huh_. Maybe there was some truth to those rumors about Dima's sexuality after all. He shut those thoughts down almost immediately. That was Dima's business, his secret. Whether it was true or not, it wasn't his place to pry.

Glancing at Day, he wondered whether he had even noticed Dima's reaction. It would be rather difficult not to- except he gave no acknowledgment in that direction, still smiling, looking relaxed. A prickle of unease coursed through his body. He forced his attention back to Dima.

"How'd you know I was in here?"

"Oh, I actually came here to return a book, but Mrs. B at the front desk remembered we're friends from when you tutored me here, and she mentioned seeing you come in." Dima blatantly shot him a meaningful look, "I still want to talk to you."

Alex darted a quick glance to Day, and found him looking at Dima, head cocked. He swallowed a sigh. Too curious for his own good.

"How about you give me a call tonight?"

"Okay. But, um, I got a new phone and I don't have your number anymore." He wiggled in his seat for a moment and then produced a cellphone from one of his pockets. "Would you mind-?"

Alex reached for the phone and Dima promptly choked on his own spit. "Alex!" He squeaked.

He drew his hand back immediately. Oh right. He shoved down his sleeve hurriedly from where it had been bunched around his elbow, internally groaning at Dima's wide-eyed look. Reaching for cell phones had done him in once again.

"Alex- you- oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

"Dima, don't."

"But this is my fault, if I had just-"

" _Don't."_ He repeated firmly. "I make my own decisions in life, okay? You didn't ask me for anything. I chose my actions. On my own."

"I- but-"

"Dima I'm serious." Day was watching them and by the look on his face, even more puzzle pieces were clicking together in his mind, so Alex went the rote path of foreign language secrecy, ignoring as best he could the way Day practically jolted in his seat at his first words and gaped at him, jaw dropped.

" _Like I said, you're my friend, right? I helped you because I wanted to and that's_ not _on you."_

" _But you're_ hurt _,"_ Dima still looked horrified and guilty, pale face drawn tight. " _That's not okay at all."_

" _Well Andre and his friend's actions aren't okay either_."

Dima bit his lip and looked for a moment like he was going to protest more- but then his shoulders slumped and he puffed out a soft breath. He smiled hesitantly up at Alex. "Спасибо большое, Саша."

Alex ruffled his head. "Пожалуйста, Дима. Now hand over your phone."

Day was still staring at him in shock and he raised an eyebrow, even as he tapped in his phone number. Day flushed for the second time that morning.

"Sorry. I just- you speak _Russian?"_

He smirked. "Amongst other things."

Day huffed quietly and shook his head. "You really are just one surprise after the next, aren't you?"

And he didn't sound _upset_ \- more… pleased? So Alex just smirked again, handing Dima back his phone.

"Well, I'd love to stay here and surprise you some more, Webster, but I think it's time for class,"

"Another time then." Day stretched his long legs under the table, brushing past Alex's knees- he didn't seem to notice the contact. Then he stood, scooping up his bag.

Dima and Alex stood with him and after Alex had carefully pulled back on his jacket, the three of them made their way out of the library.

"I'll call you tonight," Dima promised Alex as they stepped out into the hallway. "And it was very nice meeting you Day!"

"Nice to meet you too."

Dima smiled at them both and turned to leave-

-and stopped abruptly. The blood drained from his face and Alex heard his breath hitch in his throat.

Alex tracked his eyes to the other end of the hallway to where Len Abrams was standing, hand clenching spasmodically around the strap of his bookbag, staring back. He had a deep purple smudge of broken blood vessels around his right eye, and a look of anger twisting his mouth. Dima made a soft wordless noise of panic in the back of his throat.

Alex's eyes hardened and all emotions bled off of his face. He made direct eye contact with Len and then raised his arm and placed a deliberate hand on Dima's shoulder.

Even across the hallway he could see Len suck in a harsh jolt of air. His face turned an odd chalky colour and then faster than they could blink, he spun on his heel and disappeared around the corner.

Dima released a soft gasp of relief and Alex leaned down until his nose brushed the curls of Dima's hair. He spoke into his ear lowly, "If he approaches you, you come to me _immediately."_

He got a vigorous nod in return, and, satisfied that Dima was being truthful, nudged him off. "Go on. I'll talk to you tonight."

He left, although not before lunging into Alex's stomach and giving him one of his bone-crushing hugs.

"You know, I think I know more about you than you'd expect, Alex," Day commented beside him quietly as they moved outside.

Alex cut his eyes to him and let a sardonic curl tug his lips. "And probably less than _you_ would expect."

He let his eyes wander the pavilion, and spotted a familiar dark head head of hair locking his bike into a bike rack. He raised a hand, calling out to his friend.

Tom looked up, saw him and Day, and broke into such a wide and beaming grin it looked like it may have hurt.

"Alex Rider!" He hollered, rushing over. "You tiny Terminator! I've been looking for you!"

"I'm taller than you," he pointed out, and Tom waved a hand.

"Still doesn't mean you're _tall_. Were you two hanging out?"

"Yeah. Dima dropped by for a bit."

"Aww."

"He seems nice," Day said. "He said you tutored him? In what subject?"

"Maths."

"Alex is very good at maths," Tom said loftily. "And also chemistry and history."

"And languages, apparently."

Tom grinned. "You break out the ol' Russian with Dima then? Alex, you old sport." He turned to Day. "He also speaks, like, five other languages, just so you know."

Day's brows shot up and Alex sighed and scowled at Tom, though he was unable to keep his fondness off his face. "Quit it."

If he'd known that Tom was going to try and practically auction him off by his skills, like some sort of medieval bride, he wouldn't have called him over.

Tom just laughed and Alex sighed again. "You're a hassle."

Day was grinning at the two of them when he clapped Tom on the shoulder and then gave Alex a light touch on his. "Tom, I'll see you fourth block. Alex, I'll see you at lunch…?"

He nodded, ignoring the way Tom's blue eyes widened like he'd just been told he was adopted. "Definitely."

"Lovely."

And then Day was gone, leaving Alex with Tom, who reached out and clutched fervently at Alex's sleeve.

"Am I dreaming?" He asked, dazed. "Is this what an opium daze feels like?"

"You really are a hassle," Alex said, but he was grinning, and his face felt warm, and he said, "I'll walk you to class- I have a _lot_ to tell you."

* * *

 _A/N: Chapter 5! I don't know if anyone noticed, but I changed a few pieces of information. Nothing big- just that now Alex's bruises are on the left hand and not the right, and everyone is meeting up at Day's house on Friday, not Saturday. I'll go back and change those bits in the previous chapters as well!_

 _Thank you so much for such nice reviews, they're largely what helped me focus on writing this next chapter!_

 _I'm glad you guys like Tom and Alex's friendship, and I'm going to try to keep this balanced between Alex and Day stuff and Alex and Tom stuff because I love Tom :') Also, thank you Op-fan98 for pointing out Alex's decline downward because yes he's definitely straying into bad places with his thoughts and it'll probably get a little worse! Glad it's been noticed!_

 _I'm also so happy people liked Alex's meetup with Jerry's friends because I felt a little iffy about how I wrote it. Lilybud, reading your review gave me a great idea actually and gave me a new path to follow with this story, so definitely thank you for that lol! :) So I guess the answer to your question is now 'maybe' ;)_


End file.
